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footprint poem

dentro de minha mão eu prendo
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
do assoalho ao teto
talvez
diga-me mais menos ou diga-me mais
de repente, fora das maneiras escuras e frondosas
levantou-se e o âmbar era o por do sol no rio
fora do mar sparkling

 



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