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sorry poem

deus
eu prendo seu coração
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
para prestar atenção o dia inteiro à onda azul ondular e quebrar
porque assim sad meu encantador?
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
quem estará nomeando o vento
sono, irmão cinzento da morte
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca

 



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