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erotic poetry

o sol está acima
como selvagem, como bruxa-como estranho que a vida deve ser
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
qual se mantem
eu tive um medo em minha vida
da canção e do sonho para ido sempre
seu cabelo bonito
as verdades terríveis estes sejam
doubtless eu recordo ainda
dê-me a fome

 



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