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fall poem

com os olhos meek, marrons
alguns dos hurts que você se curou
agite
porque então, a obrigação nós vê?
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
poderíamos nós mas para saber
dê-me
o oeste velho, o tempo velho
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
sobre os rooftops compita as sombras das nuvens
minha mãe ensinou-me que cada noite

 



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