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short love poem

acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
no recolhimento da escuridão e pedem
agite
quem é o corredor nos céus
a algum os deuses gordos
é frequentemente não assim?
eighty anos passaram, e mais
minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
temos nós nenhum shame?

 



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