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black poetry

você ouve a chuva?
a luz retirada
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
em sua barraca guardada
não há nenhum escape pelo rio
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
eu vi-o uma vez antes
eu soube o silêncio das estrelas e do mar
eu amo as configurações melodious velhas
eu vou minha maneira complacently

 



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