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footprint poem

deixe-nos expressar nossas paixões mais baixas
eu sei não onde
não gire sua cabeça
uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
o alvorecer era verde maçã
quando eu olhei em seus olhos
pela costa, pelo mar
acima dos prados ricos com milho
short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela
caído assim
o que nós fará agora

 



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