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anniversary poem

meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
alguns dos hurts que você se curou
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
temos nós nenhum shame?
tem um espaço livre, loveliness vento-protegido
eu vi que você hunched e tiritando nas pedras
tempestade

 



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