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father poem

o prado estava rastejando
eu era um goddess ere o mármore me encontrou
nobility da morte outra vez
este é o arsenal
em seu vôo
o mistério o mais escuro, o mais estranho
eu năo queimo nenhum incense
fala năo bem
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
era năo para esse cheiro singular
na esfera
entre as montanhas eu vagueei
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
até sua janela da câmara

 



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