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memorial poem

nós que estiveram
você recorda
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
quando uma ação for feita para a liberdade
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
diga-me não
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
eu vou minha maneira complacently
cão do gingham e o gato do calico

 



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