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mother daughter poem

poderíamos nós mas para saber
paredes e enorme elevados
evidenciado no glimmer em seus olhos
em todas as coisas não faladas de
diga-me
tempestade
têm você não ouvido
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
a luz retirada
abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
agora quando meus bordos viverem
última noite a lua cheia colocou um pano do branco

 



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