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autumn poetry

a algum os deuses gordos
cai aqui nenhuma luz
bonito
em sua barraca guardada
prazeres mid e palácios embora nós podemos vaguear
sobre o rio beckon a mim
trançado e tecido
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
sob uma árvore espalhando da castanha

 



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