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poem for pastors

em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
sad sĂŁo que sabem nĂŁo o amor
deixe-me ser sad
em setembro
mulher boa
para trás, gire para trás
as sombras colocam ao longo de broadway
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
as sombras dos navios

 



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