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baby shower poem

os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem
é frequentemente não assim?
jogaram uma pedra, você jogaram uma pedra
não gire sua cabeça
no porto de york novo
quando eu retornei no por do sol
eu não queimo nenhum incense
a chuva sobre, e o ar brilhante
com os olhos meek, marrons
uma tempestade está montando na maré

 



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