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good bye poem

porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte
velas que derriban de lado en latas del tomate
todos dentro y todos sin mí
lanzaron una piedra, usted lanzaron una piedra
un pensamiento dulce solemne
para estos brazos blancos sobre mi cuello
uno con usted
y con el pájaro del tarareo
sea paciente, vida, cuando el amor está en la puerta
es usted despierto?


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