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wedding poetry

para então without
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
os corredores de mármore resounding longos
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
eu prendo seu coração
splendor doce
na terra silenciosa
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão
pela ponte rude
eu sou fevered

 



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