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angel poem

que possibilidade spiteful rouba unawares
um poeta, fazendo exame do breio fora de sua lingüeta
a algum os deuses gordos
minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
os dias melancólicos vieram
receoso não mais, eu digo
a noite era preta e drear
brilha a última idade, o seguinte com esperança é visto
eu vi que você hunched e tiritando nas pedras
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
se ele
nós colocamos

 



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