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poem

mi madre me enseñó que cada noche
renueve la visión del placer
naranjas de desplume nubian azul-negras
y todavía caminaron encendido
no puedo ahora decirle
la agonía del tener demasiada energía
fuera de mí indigno y desconocido
y pan del breaketh no más
la oscuridad
podríamos sino saber

 



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