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christmas poetry

diz de épocas velhas boas
era uma oysterman novo alto
eu espero-o
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
nós que estiveram
com o por do sol
através do peito aching da terra larga
tempestade
veja o tentative
eu não queimo nenhum incense
renove a visão do prazer
como ela
serene da tarde e brilhante verdes

 



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