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fall poem

dê-me a fome
são você acordado?
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
eu tive um medo em minha vida
eu estou no amor com lugares far-seeing elevados
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
quando eu era quebrou em Londres
fala não bem
em números mournful
porque o faça sempre carrinho que tirita lá
disse

 



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