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pumpkin poem

as sombras dos navios
talvez
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
dentro de minha mão eu prendo
em setembro
uma vez este turf macio
amigo, cujo o sorriso veio ser
quando o véu dos olhos for levantado
seu cabelo bonito
levantou-se e o âmbar era o por do sol no rio
as estrelas caíram do heaven

 



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