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life poem

a escuridão rouba os formulários de todas as rainhas
eu sou o vento que wavers
eu estou morrendo
deixe-nos expressar nossas paixões mais baixas
os arcos da ponte vermelha
uma vez este turf macio
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
muito bem, você liberais

 



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