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thanksgiving poem

melancolia, azul era
jogaram uma pedra, você jogaram uma pedra
f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré
em setembro
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
talvez
eu amei uma mulher
a luz retirada
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
de nossos lugares escondidos
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
baixo! ' tis um a noite do gala

 



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