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dark poetry

bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
três anos há hoje
aflija-se nĂŁo para o invisĂ­vel
em todas as coisas nĂŁo faladas de
no alvorecer, disse
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
o que era ele os motores ditos
olhe para fora em cima das estrelas, meu amor
o que nós fará agora
assim perdido
eu amo as configurações melodious velhas

 



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