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pumpkin poem

eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
eu tenho que dizer good-night
têm você ouvido
todo meu amor para meu doce
uma tempestade está montando na maré
como uma vela branca
tempestade
meu amor verdadeiro de seu descanso levantou-se
para poder ver cada lado de cada pergunta
a escuridão
duas fileiras dos repolhos

 



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