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mother poem

sadly falando
macia agora a luz do dia
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
caído assim
short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela
eu não pray para a paz
há qualquer um lá
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
tudo dentro e tudo sem mim
fraco-é voada a canção
faça exame de meus bracelets

 



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