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daughter poem

simplesmente falando
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
minha mãe ensinou-me que cada noite
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
para trás, gire para trás
estrela-poeira e luz vaporosa
filhas do tempo
é verdadeiro que você diz que os deuses lhe são mais uso do que fairies
dê-me a fome
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
completamente dos rasgos
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua

 



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