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concrete poetry

este é o navio da pérola
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
o alvorecer era verde maçã
macia agora a luz do dia
se ele
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
eu estive
do assoalho ao teto
em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
filhas do tempo
o oeste velho, o tempo velho
a escuridão
pensamentos através de minha cabeça

 



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