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prose poetry

eu não posso dizê-lo agora
sentar-se em seu balancim que espera seu chá
o amor foi cantado mil maneiras
três dias eu ouvi-os afligir-se quando eu coloco absolutamente
truely
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
não seja falso
acima do sul na ruptura do dia
qual se mantem
prazeres mid e palácios embora nós podemos vaguear

 



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