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anniversary poem

a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
ao amante passionate
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
um por um, como sae de uma árvore
eu despise meus amigos mais do que você
cidade que não é uma cidade
não há nenhum escape pelo rio
quando, cheio do amor morno e ansioso
irmão, eu sou fogo

 



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