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death poem

pela costa, pelo mar
o prado estava rastejando
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
eu não queimo nenhum incense
em sua barraca guardada
sumário em uma noite do vôo
o dia é feito
deixe o unsaid encantador das palavras
de nossos lugares escondidos
o que nós fará agora
há qualquer um lá
eu sei não onde

 



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