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son poem

moonlight profundo e macio
o doce com fern e levantou-se
na esfera
as canções antigas
sob uma árvore espalhando da castanha
quando eu era um menino na faculdade
quando o véu dos olhos for levantado
algum queixou-se ao mestre
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
do assoalho ao teto
eu vi com olhos abertos
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
este é o arsenal

 



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