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religious poem

cidade que não é uma cidade
sabe uma liberação barata
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
e ainda andaram sobre
laranjas arrancando nubian azul-pretas
apenas agora
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
veja, eles retornam
todo meu amor para meu doce

 



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