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christmas poem

macio como a cama na terra
antes do saint de bronze solemn
para a verdade, para o amor
eu estou cantando-lhe
quando você vier hoje à noite
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
esse ano
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
em sua barraca guardada
as sombras dos navios

 



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