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thanksgiving poetry

o que era ele os motores ditos
um olhar é mas um raio
laranjas arrancando nubian azul-pretas
veja que eu me dou a você
acima do sul na ruptura do dia
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
irmão, eu sou fogo
assim perdido
brilha a última idade, o seguinte com esperança é visto
em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel
eu ouvi o vento o dia inteiro
sabe uma liberação barata
era não para esse cheiro singular

 



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