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retirement poem

todos tragam os anos
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
ainda treze anos
com vermelho do sangue dos bordos e coração da pedra
podem falar do amor em uma casa de campo
temos nós nenhum shame?
ao longo dos bancos
eu prendo seu coração
as sombras dos navios
o que era ele os motores ditos
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias

 



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