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sad love poem

ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
cidade que não é uma cidade
para a verdade, para o amor
não gire sua cabeça
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
eu não posso sempre sentir seu greatness
diga-me não
duas fileiras dos repolhos
última meia-noite
na meia-noite
a festa real foi feita

 



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