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narrative poetry

eu sou o vento que wavers
macio como a cama na terra
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
eu sou uma mulher
no recolhimento da escuridĂŁo e pedem
apenas agora
uma névoa estava dirigindo para baixo
eu estou morrendo
eu disse
eu vi as estrelas as mais orgulhosas
este é o navio da pérola
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso

 



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