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thanksgiving poem

sombras voadas que varrem perto
e meu nome Ă© truthful
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma Ă© athirst
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
existir da cisne
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
nĂŁo esteja irritado com mim
a escuridão rouba os formulários de todas as rainhas

 



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