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short love poem

sé no dónde
el más triste del ańo
hay una ciudad, builded por ninguna mano
el pasar a través de las paredes amontonadas y feas
quizás
he echado el mundo
se levantó y el ámbar era la puesta del sol en el río
había un strangeness en sus labios
el prado se arrastraba
debajo de un árbol de la castańa que se separa

 



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