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romantic poem

um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
desolado e solitário
eu nunca soube que a terra teve assim muito ouro
perguntam-me onde eu estive
existir da cisne
bonito
a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira
ao longo de um river-side
mas alas, sonhos justos
quando eu retornei no por do sol

 



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