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myspace poem

no porto de york novo
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
nós não éramos muitos
sobre o rio, no monte
o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas
cai aqui nenhuma luz
você diz que você me ama
pela costa, pelo mar
para trás, gire para trás

 



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