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footprint poem

não permaneça não mais
ao lado de um campo stricken
o sol pisou para baixo de seu throne dourado
como ela
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
olhar além
e nse
o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
eu não queimo nenhum incense
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
homem frio stern

 



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