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christmas poetry

o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
uma milha atrás
eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem
podem falar do amor em uma casa de campo
um com você
você diz que você me ama
sob a folha dusky do laurel
a o que uma mulher a comparará beloved

 



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