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mom poem

todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
mil anos silenciosos há
esse ano
quando eu retornei no por do sol
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
na terra silenciosa
sabe uma liberação barata
lá pela janela na casa velha
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
o alvorecer era verde maçã
eu sou o vento que wavers
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras

 



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