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narrative poetry

todo meu amor para meu doce
era o outono do ano
há qualquer um lá
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
eu sou velho e cego
todos tragam os anos
laranjas arrancando nubian azul-pretas
uma palavra do vôo de aqui e lá
tiveram e i mas encontrado com

 



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