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sister poem

por la orilla, por el mar
como baja el igualar
amo mi vida, pero no demasiado bien
el prado se arrastraba
pero no puedo ahora leerle
cuando el viento trabaja contra nosotros en la obscuridad
mi madre me enseñó que cada noche
ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos
oscuro-eyed
tristemente hablando

 



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