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fall poem

não do mundo largo do todo
irmão, eu sou fogo
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
eu ganhei a raça
têm você ouvido
eu sei não onde
o que nós fará agora
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
na esfera
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
babylon -- onde eu vou sonhar
apenas agora
um olhar é mas um raio

 



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