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narrative poetry

para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
năo se aflija que sobre
talvez
sol e vento e batida do mar
eu prendo seu coraçăo
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
disse
quando eu retornei no por do sol
flores dos bebęs
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado

 



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