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thanksgiving poetry

a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
antes do saint de bronze solemn
através do peito aching da terra larga
quando, cheio do amor morno e ansioso
conseqüentemente eu não posso
a escuridão rola para cima
os dias melancólicos vieram
deve ir para trás, disse
eu resido na montanha da tabela
seja paciente, vida, quando o amor está na porta

 



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