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baby poem

usted oye la lluvia?
hay cualquiera allí
oí el viento todo el dia
en la esfera
arqueó la inundación
y como caminamos la hierba fue revuelta débilmente
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
le estoy cantando
en y de sí mismo
dios
mi alma es un campo arado oscuro
oscilado en la horquilla del profundo

 



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