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romantic poem

los pequeños rezos blancos
la hija, arte del thou viene morir
paredes y enorme altos
el sol caminó abajo de su trono de oro
había un strangeness en sus labios
en la medianoche
aunque soy poco como todas las pequeñas cosas
a lo largo de los bancos
rosas y oro
él vino tomarme por la mano
envuelva la tierra en tiempo nublado
tome mis pulseras
cántele otra vez a canción cantado
a alguno los dioses gordos

 



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