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birthday poem

velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
no porto de york novo
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
quando o véu dos olhos for levantado
eu ofereci-os todo o farewell
sabe uma liberação barata
eu vi a primeira pera
carrinho aqui por meu lado
sadly falando
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred

 



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