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grandmother poem

eu estive pelo casement aberto
são você acordado?
sadly falando
uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
uma tempestade está montando na maré
e meu nome é truthful
esta bacia de prata antiga de meus
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
o cheiro do levantou-se assim falso, os espinhos assim verdadeiros
ido antes de nós

 



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