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african american poetry

los poetas dicen
oí el viento todo el dia
la agonía del tener demasiada energía
oscilado en la horquilla del profundo
todavía su gris oscila la torre sobre el mar
dios
usted piensa, mi muchacho, cuando pongo mis brazos alrededor de usted
mi amor verdadero de su almohadilla se levantó
un pequeńo melocotón en la huerta creció
cuando, lleno de amor caliente e impaciente

 



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