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teen poems

vocę é bonito e desvanecido
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
nos salőes do sono vocę vagueou perto
as sombras colocam ao longo de broadway
um poeta, fazendo exame do breio fora de sua lingüeta
quem estará nomeando o vento
eu ganhei a raça
porque
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
calma como que segundo verăo

 



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