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angel poem

eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
splendor doce
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
não há nenhum escape pelo rio
uma vez este turf macio
os navios estão encontrando-se na baía
como um homem despido mim vai
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
o mestre de destinies humanos é mim
eu estou cantando-lhe

 



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