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footprint poem

esos ojos negros i elogiado una vez tan
se hace el día
expresemos nuestras pasiones más bajas
nunca había un sonido al lado de la madera pero de una
él habla no bien
no dé vuelta a su cabeza
éste es el arsenal
dice de buenas viejas épocas
sombras coas alas que barren cerca
mi madre me enseñó que cada noche

 



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