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halloween poetry

uma vez este turf macio
o corpo pode confinar
eu estive
vontade vocĂŞ glimmer no mar?
em setembro
era uma oysterman novo alto
os poetas dizem
o ar Ă© como uma borboleta
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
nĂŁo pendure nenhuma grinalda
quietamente, com reverance, no awe
perguntam-me onde eu estive
o prado estava rastejando

 



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