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poem for dad

escuro-eyed
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
aqueles no superior dizem que o conhecem, terra -- são liars
balançado no berço do profundo
splendor doce
eu vi as nuvens entre os montes
uma vida na onda do oceano
glass-blower do tempo
cidade que não é uma cidade
agora que eu lhe esfriei

 



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