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concrete poetry

o que era ele os motores ditos
minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
deus
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
felicidade
amigo, cujo o sorriso veio ser
o alvorecer era verde maçã
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
uma milha atrás

 



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