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narrative poetry

e ainda andaram sobre
é ido
simplicity
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
nós colocamos
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
nós não éramos muitos
e assim vai
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
o movimento do seu corpo é como a música
eu não queimo nenhum incense
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
sol e vento e batida do mar

 



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