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thanksgiving poetry

eu prendo seu coração
eu resido na montanha da tabela
eu não posso dizê-lo agora
e pão do breaketh mais
vontade você glimmer no mar?
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
com vermelho do sangue dos bordos e coração da pedra
nossos momentos agradáveis voam
eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente

 



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