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mom poem

o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
nós que estiveram
uma tempestade está montando na maré
nobility da morte outra vez
há uma hora do descanso calmo
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
pássaros de encontro ao vento de abril
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
tempestade
o mistério o mais escuro, o mais estranho
eu sou fevered

 



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