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sex poem

uma névoa estava dirigindo para baixo
pássaros de encontro ao vento de abril
o que nós fará agora
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
sumário em uma noite do vôo
um olhar é mas um raio
arched a inundação
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
rosas e ouro
na esfera

 



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