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african american poetry

poderíamos nós mas para saber
eu não queimo nenhum incense
três dias eu ouvi-os afligir-se quando eu coloco absolutamente
o mais saddest do ano
da canção e do sonho para ido sempre
carrinho aqui por meu lado
o doce com fern e levantou-se
se ele
rode-me para baixo pelo prado

 



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