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short poem

o relâmpago piscou, e levantou
agora que eu lhe esfriei
as canções velhas
temos nós nenhum shame?
pôde tê-lo sabido na mola mais adiantada
um pássaro cantou
acima do sul na ruptura do dia
em setembro
eu não queimo nenhum incense
eu sei o que você está indo dizer
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
com os olhos meek, marrons
como ela

 



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