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angel poem

a fragrância veio
sadly falando
macia weeping
cão do gingham e o gato do calico
como selvagem, como bruxa-como estranho que a vida deve ser
pôde tê-lo sabido na mola mais adiantada
mas alas, sonhos justos
babylon -- onde eu vou sonhar
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu

 



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