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kid poem

o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
na esfera
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
eu despise meus amigos mais do que você
vontade você glimmer no mar?
era não para esse cheiro singular
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
quem é o corredor nos céus
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
mil anos silenciosos há

 



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