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pumpkin poem

do assoalho ao teto
não esteja irritado com mim
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
alguns dias mais ventosos
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
musing, entre o por do sol e a obscuridade
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas

 



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