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suicide poetry

nós que estiveram
os poetas dizem
eu amo minha hora do vento e da luz
deus
quando eu retornei no por do sol
agora que eu lhe esfriei
porque
um poeta, fazendo exame do breio fora de sua lingüeta
uma palavra do vôo de aqui e lá
última noite a lua cheia colocou um pano do branco
estrela-poeira e luz vaporosa

 



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