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love poem

assim perdido
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
todos tragam os anos
em possa
sob a folha dusky do laurel
dentro de minha mão eu prendo
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
poderíamos nós mas para saber
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
rode-me para baixo pelo prado

 



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