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love poem

calma como que segundo verão
algum queixou-se ao mestre
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
desde que, se você estiver por meu lado hoje
prazeres mid e palácios embora nós podemos vaguear
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred
levantado dos mortos
abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes

 



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