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concrete poetry

sentar-se em seu balancim que espera seu chá
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
raça elevado-carregada
brilha a última idade, o seguinte com esperança é visto
veio fazer exame de me pela mão
a escuridão rola para cima
havia um momento em anos anteriores
estes sejam
eu não posso sempre sentir seu greatness

 



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