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father poem

o ar é como uma borboleta
cai aqui nenhuma luz
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
através do peito aching da terra larga
faça exame de meus bracelets
rosas e ouro
eu era um goddess ere o mármore me encontrou
eu arremessei minha alma ao ar como um vôo do falcão
era muitas e muito um ano há
acima do sul na ruptura do dia
quando eu era quebrou em Londres
eu disse

 



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