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ao lado de um campo stricken
olhar além
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
eu ouvi-os na noite
na meia-noite
três anos há hoje
macia agora a luz do dia
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
se eu for muito certo
eu vi a primeira pera
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
mas eu não posso lê-lo agora
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte

 



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