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Obvious sky

I love the obvious
chicken in the egg.  

The cold of the
will-o'-the-wisp
in a New Year's sky.  

Radiostatic
interference...

I love the U-turn
at the halfway point.

Oh, the nausea
of ​​the obvious...

The smell of armpits
and feet.
I miss endless tales
and the lack
of broth in soups.
Written by PAR (PAULO ACACIO RAMOS)
Published
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