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thanksgiving poem

revuelva
rompemos el cristal que vino sagrado
haga a muchachos y las muchachas todavía van
en todas las cosas no habladas de
tengo gusto de ella
no me quemo ningún incienso
hago mi cubierta, pero nadie sabe
para mirar todo el dia la onda azul encresparse y romperse
dígame
ponemos

 



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