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mom poem

como uma vela branca
doce e forte
para a verdade, para o amor
eu não pray para a paz
babylon -- onde eu vou sonhar
agite
travails da terra
olhar além
evidenciado no glimmer em seus olhos
e com o pássaro humming
do assoalho ao teto
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
deus

 



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