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friend poem

diga-me não
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
nobility da morte outra vez
sombras voadas que varrem perto
uma pena do aço
laranjas arrancando nubian azul-pretas
uplifting, como o vento fundiu

 



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