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african american poetry

o cheiro do levantou-se assim falso, os espinhos assim verdadeiros
babylon -- onde eu vou sonhar
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
há uma hora do descanso calmo
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
disse
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
eu encho este copo
era o outono do ano

 



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