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erotic poem

sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
na meia-noite
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
sobre o rio beckon a mim
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
sob a lua da colheita
era uma oysterman novo alto
eu ofereci-os todo o farewell
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
gloom
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
no alvorecer, disse

 



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