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wedding poetry

é frequentemente não assim?
eu estive
a algum os deuses gordos
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
pela ponte rude
eu ando abaixo os trajetos do jardim
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
última noite a lua cheia colocou um pano do branco
sobre o rio, no monte
o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso

 



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