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friend poetry

meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
diz de épocas velhas boas
eu espero-o
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
encontra-se aqui uma senhora a mais bonita
flores dos bebês
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
a escuridão rouba os formulários de todas as rainhas
calma como que segundo verão

 



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