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baby poem

short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela
moonlight profundo e macio
doce e forte
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
última noite a lua cheia colocou um pano do branco
e pão do breaketh mais
sob a lua da colheita
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo

 



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