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prose poetry

agite
alguns dias mais ventosos
fraco-é voada a canção
aqueles no superior dizem que o conhecem, terra -- são liars
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
sentar-se em seu balancim que espera seu chá
é ido
conseqüentemente eu não posso
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless
eu estive

 



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