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christmas poem

qual se mantem
a o que uma mulher a comparará beloved
os prayers brancos pequenos
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
eu arremessei minha alma ao ar como um vôo do falcão
eu gosto d
quando eu olhei em seus olhos
em números mournful
eu estou morrendo
como águias na elevação ascendente
trançado e tecido
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta

 



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