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thanksgiving poetry

eu fui acima e trago as ruas
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
macia agora a luz do dia
os céus que eram ashen e sober
olhar além
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
não seja falso
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira

 



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