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erotic poetry

algum queixou-se ao mestre
estes sejam
eu sou o vento que wavers
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
felicidade
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
que possibilidade spiteful rouba unawares
eu arremessei minha alma ao ar como um vôo do falcăo
há um país completamente do vinho
meu amor verdadeiro de seu descanso levantou-se

 



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