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writing poetry

as canções antigas
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
eu não posso dizê-lo agora
ao longo dos bancos
eu tive um sonho e eu acordei com ele
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
eu era um goddess ere o mármore me encontrou
eu sou fevered
bonito

 



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