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brother poem

sob a folha dusky do laurel
quando a noite drifts ao longo das ruas da cidade
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
para prestar atenção o dia inteiro à onda azul ondular e quebrar
podem falar do amor em uma casa de campo
e nse
nós não éramos muitos
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza
eu gosto d
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras

 



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