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modern poetry

velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
ame-me no último, ou se você não
nós que estiveram
um poeta, fazendo exame do breio fora de sua lingüeta
eu vi as nuvens entre os montes
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
cara esposa
cão do gingham e o gato do calico
vinho velho a beber
assim perdido

 



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