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short love poem

le estoy cantando
flor blanca de la espuma, flor roja de la llama
en sus regimentals desiguales
puesto que he sentido el sentido de la muerte
la tierra guarda cierto ir de la vibración
sobre los tejados compita con las sombras de nubes
cuando la noche mandila a lo largo de las calles de la ciudad
los pequeños rezos blancos

 



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