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erotic poem

sad são que sabem não o amor
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
composto do loveliness sozinho
porque o faça sempre carrinho que tirita lá
sob a lua da colheita
burly, humble-abelha aplanar
e com o pássaro humming
alguns dias mais ventosos
agora que eu lhe esfriei
eu sei o que você está indo dizer

 



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