every palace grows from the same Fancy
and stone perspiring dust
within every palace ruins grow from the same Soil
and hunger masticating memory
matter is flowing through my forms
devouring my Construction
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Maybe birds dream within my Desiring Freedom and cross everything the closures of gardens, hearts, and manuscripts -
Eros, o Noturno. Eros, o Assaltante. Passas as horas sonhando sem nexo: Rende-te ou eu acabo-te! Canta-me ou eu grito! Beija-me ou eu devoro...
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