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autumn poem

levantado dos mortos
em seu vôo
sob a lua da colheita
na esfera
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
acima dos prados ricos com milho
flores dos bebês
dê-me a fome
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
as estrelas caíram do heaven
a luz retirada
há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas

 



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