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grandmother poem

flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel
tiveram e i mas encontrado com
uma névoa estava dirigindo para baixo
a luz retirada
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
uma vida na onda do oceano

 



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