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fall poetry

o alvorecer era verde maçã
bonito
eu sou uma mulher
ao longo dos bancos
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
flores dos bebês
que possibilidade spiteful rouba unawares
os dias hypocritic
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
fora do mar sparkling

 



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