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birthday poetry

tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
com os olhos meek, marrons
estrela-poeira e luz vaporosa
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
eu vou minha maneira complacently
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nós são
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
glass-blower do tempo
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
no porto de york novo

 



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