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erotic poem

nossos momentos agradáveis voam
algum queixou-se ao mestre
tempestade
doubtless eu recordo ainda
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
e nse
sabe uma liberação barata
renove a visão do prazer
como águias na elevação ascendente
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
jogaram uma pedra, você jogaram uma pedra
os prayers brancos pequenos
duas fileiras dos repolhos
os corredores de mármore resounding longos

 



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