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african american poetry

mundo que muda sob minha mão
diga-me mais menos ou diga-me mais
acima de e para baixo vai
eu nunca soube que a terra teve assim muito ouro
diz de épocas velhas boas
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
quando eu olhei em seus olhos
os prayers brancos pequenos
o ar é como uma borboleta
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
eu despise meus amigos mais do que você

 



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