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sad poem

velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
é frequentemente não assim?
com o por do sol
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
quem é o corredor nos céus
eliminar, esforçando-se vainly
evidenciado no glimmer em seus olhos
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
uma pena do aço
disse

 



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