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romantic poetry

glass-blower do tempo
a festa real foi feita
e assim vai
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
você diz que você me ama
eu estou no tempo cinzento frio
eu sei não onde
o relâmpago piscou, e levantou
sobre o rio, no monte
através do peito aching da terra larga
quem é o corredor nos céus

 



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