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lyric poem

o doce com fern e levantou-se
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
os prayers brancos pequenos
para prestar atenção o dia inteiro à onda azul ondular e quebrar
os céus que eram ashen e sober
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
eu estou morrendo

 



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