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poem and quote

materia de la luna
estoy viejo y oculto
la fragancia vino
burly, humilde-abeja el dormitar
velas que derriban de lado en latas del tomate
aquí miente una señora más hermosa
mientras que estaba parado escuchar, discreto mudo
era una diosa ere el mármol me encontró
para estos brazos blancos sobre mi cuello
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento

 



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