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broken heart poem

o alvorecer era verde maçã
babylon -- onde eu vou sonhar
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
pela ponte rude
deixe-nos plantar
eu amo minha hora do vento e da luz
qual se mantem
três anos há hoje
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
irmão, eu sou fogo
teria mesmo seu gracejo
talvez

 



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