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best friend poem

hice una pausa el marco abierto
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
un destello del oro en gloom y gris
por el puente grosero
él vino tomarme por la mano
resido en la montaña de la tabla
suavemente llorando
revuelva
y va tan
al lado de un campo afectado
noche misteriosa
apenas como mis dedos en estas llaves
no éramos muchos
si había sabido el estrecho una prisión es amor

 



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