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se ele
uma vez este turf macio
estrela-poeira e luz vaporosa
pela costa, pelo mar
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão
como eu me encontro telhado dentro, selecionado dentro
eu sou o vento que wavers
macio como a cama na terra
ao longo dos bancos
as canções velhas
as verdades terríveis estes sejam
o mistério o mais escuro, o mais estranho
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade

 



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