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erotic poem

duas fileiras dos repolhos
agora para uma luta viva e cheerful
com os olhos meek, marrons
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
os corredores de mármore resounding longos
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
do sol nem das estrelas
era muitas e muito um ano há
baixo! ' tis um a noite do gala

 



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