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poetry poem

última meia-noite
renove a visão do prazer
há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas
minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
os arcos da ponte vermelha
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
o ar é como uma borboleta
alguns dias mais ventosos
melancolia, azul era
os dias melancólicos vieram
sono, irmão cinzento da morte

 



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