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graduation poem

sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
travails da terra
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira
a fragrância veio
não há nenhum escape pelo rio

 



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