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marriage poem

eu não queimo nenhum incense
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
homem frio stern
esta é a canção da juventude
glass-blower do tempo
olhe para trás com olhos longing e saiba que eu seguirei
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
teria mesmo seu gracejo

 



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