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dark poetry

através do peito aching da terra larga
em seus regimentals ásperos
talvez
o alvorecer era verde maçã
felicidade
eu detestei-o
uma vez este turf macio
quando eu era quebrou em Londres
ao longo dos bancos
um olhar é mas um raio
caras bonitas, tragical
burly, humble-abelha aplanar
macia weeping

 



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