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writing poetry

são você acordado?
o alvorecer era verde maçã
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
desolado e solitário
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
entre as montanhas eu vagueei
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente
a escuridão
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
noite misteriosa

 



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