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thanksgiving poem

não esteja irritado com mim
flores dos bebês
não pendure nenhuma grinalda
ruídos que strive rasgar
cidade que não é uma cidade
balançado no berço do profundo
para prestar atenção o dia inteiro à onda azul ondular e quebrar
com os olhos meek, marrons
eu espero-o
três anos há hoje
eu vi as nuvens entre os montes

 



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