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african american poetry

você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
diga-me mais menos ou diga-me mais
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua
doubtless eu recordo ainda
eu ouvi-os na noite
o mistério o mais escuro, o mais estranho

 



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