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acrostic poem

nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred
ame-me no último, ou se você não
eu estou morrendo
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
as sombras colocam ao longo de broadway
com o por do sol
os céus que eram ashen e sober

 



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