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writing poetry

para a verdade, para o amor
esplêndido e terrível seu amor
três anos há hoje
eighty anos passaram, e mais
a lua levantando-se escondeu as estrelas
dê-me
de nossos lugares escondidos
flores dos bebês
um com você
lá pela janela na casa velha
deus
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
apenas agora
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta

 



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