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type of poetry

não permaneça não mais
três anos há hoje
era o outono do ano
para trás, gire para trás
estourou o vinho feroz
para poder ver cada lado de cada pergunta
até sua janela da câmara
os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem
tem por muito tempo a luz solar do verão brilhada
a algum os deuses gordos

 



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