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thank you poem

năo há nenhum escape pelo rio
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma măo
macia weeping
vocę diz que vocę me ama
ido antes de nós
eu vi com olhos abertos
um pęssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
pela ponte rude
os poetas dizem
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
eu sou fevered
flores dos bebęs
eu vou minha maneira complacently
veja, desta moeda falsa dele

 



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