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romantic love poem

glass-blower do tempo
um pensamento doce solemn
evidenciado no glimmer em seus olhos
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
cidade que não é uma cidade
este é o navio da pérola
eu vi que você hunched e tiritando nas pedras
sol e vento e batida do mar
quem estará nomeando o vento
levantou-se e o âmbar era o por do sol no rio

 



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