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slam poetry

no éramos muchos
flores de bebés
era un oysterman joven alto
viejo vino a beber
evidenciado en la luz tenue en sus ojos
si él
flor blanca de la espuma, flor roja de la llama
sombras coas alas que barren cerca
ahora que me he refrescado a usted
mire hacia fuera sobre las estrellas, mi amor

 



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