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father poem

agite
no porto de york novo
há uma hora do descanso calmo
acima de e para baixo vai
eu sou uma mulher
pela costa, pelo mar
quietamente, com reverance, no awe
não gire sua cabeça
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
faça os meninos e as meninas vão ainda
abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
teria mesmo seu gracejo

 



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