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daughter poem

você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
glooms dos viv-carvalhos
os céus que eram ashen e sober
o sol pisou para baixo de seu throne dourado
uma vida na onda do oceano
minha mãe ensinou-me que cada noite
eu espero-o
há três maneiras em que os homens fazem exame
rosas e ouro
paredes e enorme elevados
felicidade

 



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