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baby poem

se hace el día
para estos brazos blancos sobre mi cuello
sobre ellas todas, mirando abajo
pero alas, sueńos justos
ruédeme abajo por el prado
voy mi manera complacently
el cuerpo puede confinar
por la orilla, por el mar
behold yo, en mi chiffon, gasa y malla
de nuestros lugares ocultados
si era muy seguro

 



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