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family poetry

musing, entre o por do sol e a obscuridade
minha măe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
escute o mar soando
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
conseqüentemente eu năo posso
a o que uma mulher a comparará beloved
cidade que năo é uma cidade
fala năo bem
ainda treze anos
eu ouvi-me que uma determinada princesa
a neve sussurra sobre mim

 



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