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prose poetry

conseqüentemente eu não posso
eu sei o que você está indo dizer
serene da tarde e brilhante verdes
porque o faça sempre carrinho que tirita lá
diz de épocas velhas boas
através do peito aching da terra larga
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
eu encho este copo
sabe uma liberação barata
com vermelho do sangue dos bordos e coração da pedra

 



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