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thanksgiving poem

limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
três dias eu ouvi-os afligir-se quando eu coloco absolutamente
ainda treze anos
de repente, fora das maneiras escuras e frondosas
as estrelas caíram do heaven
do assoalho ao teto
em todas as coisas não faladas de
para a verdade, para o amor

 



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