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love poem

uma tempestade estį montando na maré
do assoalho ao teto
seu cabelo bonito
embora eu sou pouco como todas as coisas pequenas
dź-me a fome
com os olhos meek, marrons
qual eu desejo observar
splendor doce
completamente dos rasgos
eu sou uma mulher
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade
eu vi com olhos abertos
simplicity
antes do saint de bronze solemn

 



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