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grandmother poem

em e sobre
prazeres mid e palácios embora nós podemos vaguear
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
algum queixou-se ao mestre
eu sou fevered
as verdades terríveis estes sejam
um poeta, fazendo exame do breio fora de sua lingüeta
a noite era preta e drear
para vir assim logo a isto imaginou a obscuridade
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama

 



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