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autumn poem

uma vez este turf macio
do assoalho ao teto
para trás, gire para trás
você é meu companheiro
eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
eu vi com olhos abertos
eu moldei o mundo
em todas as coisas não faladas de
o doce com fern e levantou-se

 



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