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retirement poem

pela ponte rude
ruídos que strive rasgar
gaily através dos campos nós dançamos
e ainda andaram sobre
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
a escuridão
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
envolva a terra no tempo cloudy
dentro de minha mão eu prendo

 



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