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autumn poem

com os olhos meek, marrons
eu ganhei a raça
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
se eu for muito certo
do sol nem das estrelas
um por um, como sae de uma árvore
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
o cheiro do levantou-se assim falso, os espinhos assim verdadeiros
última meia-noite
macio como a cama na terra
tudo dentro e tudo sem mim

 



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