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autumn poem

a música i ouvido com você era mais do que a música
um por um, como sae de uma árvore
diga-me não
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
todos tragam os anos
macia weeping
sobre o rio, no monte
fora do profundo e da obscuridade
abaixo do helm do guerreiro
babylon -- onde eu vou sonhar
eu encho este copo
pouca porta foi alcançada no último

 



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