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african american poetry

filhas do tempo
em uma câmara velha iluminou-se macia
nós que estiveram
abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
sabe uma liberaçăo barata
macia weeping
poderíamos nós mas para saber
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
sombras voadas que varrem perto
serene da tarde e brilhante verdes
eu fui acima e trago as ruas
passado unrelenting do thou
porque assim sad meu encantador?

 



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