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halloween poem

flores dos bebês
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
veja que eu me dou a você
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
ame-me no último, ou se você não
dentro de minha mão eu prendo
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
olhe para fora em cima das estrelas, meu amor
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
vontade você glimmer no mar?
glass-blower do tempo
mil anos silenciosos há

 



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