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poem for pastors

levantado dos mortos
voc diz que voc me ama
perguntam-me onde eu estive
uma nvoa estava dirigindo para baixo
quem ama a chuva
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
escute o mar soando
sua cara justa e lisa e fina
veja o tentative
o que era ele os motores ditos
alguns dias mais ventosos
aqueles no superior dizem que o conhecem, terra -- so liars
quietamente, com reverance, no awe

 



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