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death poem

este é o navio da pérola
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
do sol nem das estrelas
o que era ele os motores ditos
eu sou uma mulher
o alvorecer era verde maçã
seu cabelo bonito
o sol pisou para baixo de seu throne dourado
dê-me a fome

 



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