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happy birthday poem

fala não bem
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
eu sou fevered
amigo, cujo o sorriso veio ser
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
um olhar é mas um raio
eu soube o silêncio das estrelas e do mar
eu estou cantando-lhe
para então without
assim perdido

 



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