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autumn poem

pôde tê-lo sabido na mola mais adiantada
em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
truely
eu disse
eu detestei-o
o céu
havia um strangeness em seus bordos
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras

 



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