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cowboy poetry

eu vi as estrelas as mais orgulhosas
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
caras bonitas, tragical
para trás, gire para trás
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
as sombras dos navios
musing, entre o por do sol e a obscuridade

 



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