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footprint poem

o mistério o mais escuro, o mais estranho
nós não éramos muitos
a neve sussurra sobre mim
duas fileiras dos repolhos
agite
como selvagem, como bruxa-como estranho que a vida deve ser
eu amo as configurações melodious velhas
os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo

 



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