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brother poem

velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
quando eu retornei no por do sol
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
quando a noite drifts ao longo das ruas da cidade
a neve sussurra sobre mim
o justo e stately empregada doméstica, cujos olhos
gaily através dos campos nós dançamos

 



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