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graduation poem

minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
uma tempestade está montando na maré
nossos momentos agradáveis voam
eu v todas as sagacidades humanas
pôde tê-lo sabido na mola mais adiantada
o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
de nossos lugares escondidos

 



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