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love poem

ame-me no último, ou se você não
veja o tentative
você é bonito e desvanecido
no porto de york novo
abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas
com os olhos meek, marrons
dentro de minha mão eu prendo
eu v todas as sagacidades humanas
levantado dos mortos
o sol pisou para baixo de seu throne dourado
os navios estão encontrando-se na baía

 



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