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grandmother poem

en y encendido
placeres mediados de y palacios aunque podemos vagar
cuando voy de nuevo a la tierra
algún se quejó al amo
soy fevered
las verdades tremendas éstos sean
un poeta, tomando el frenillo de su lengüeta
la noche era negra y drear
para venir tan pronto a esto imaginaba obscuridad
flor blanca de la espuma, flor roja de la llama

 



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