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wedding poetry

minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
pensamentos através de minha cabeça
eighty anos passaram, e mais
eu gosto d
existir da cisne
cante-o outra vez à canção cantado
você está desobstruído
o cheiro do levantou-se assim falso, os espinhos assim verdadeiros
algum queixou-se ao mestre
ainda treze anos

 



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