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teen poem

porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
levantado dos mortos
eu amo minha hora do vento e da luz
escuro-eyed
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
eu disse
seja paciente, vida, quando o amor está na porta
quem estará nomeando o vento
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
truely
sobre o rio beckon a mim
ainda seu cinza balança a torre acima do mar
eu prendo seu coração

 



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