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retirement poem

este é o arsenal
eu sou o vento que wavers
para trás, gire para trás
paredes e enorme elevados
se eu souber o narrow uma prisão é amor
como nivelar cai
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
agora que eu lhe esfriei
eu moldei o mundo

 



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