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baby poem

você diz que você me ama
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
há qualquer um lá
não permaneça não mais
quem ama a chuva
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
de repente, fora das maneiras escuras e frondosas
mulher boa

 



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