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erotic poem

não há nenhum escape pelo rio
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
nenhuma rapina é mim de pensamentos pobres
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
receoso não mais, eu digo
glass-blower do tempo
é verdadeiro que você diz que os deuses lhe são mais uso do que fairies

 



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