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family poetry

eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
as verdades terríveis estes sejam
mil anos silenciosos há
os dias hypocritic
felicidade
última meia-noite
este é o navio da pérola
calma como que segundo verão
dentro de minha mão eu prendo
o alvorecer era verde maçã
eu ganhei a raça
não pendure nenhuma grinalda
ao lado de um campo stricken

 



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