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eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
um por um, como sae de uma árvore
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
agite
até sua janela da câmara
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
eu quero saber onde você vive
não gire sua cabeça
era não para esse cheiro singular
eu vi as estrelas as mais orgulhosas
laranjas arrancando nubian azul-pretas
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
agora que eu lhe esfriei
poderíamos nós mas para saber

 



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