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cowboy poetry

velas que derriban de lado en latas del tomate
ella puede ser que lo haya sabido en el resorte anterior
no hay multitud, no obstante está mirado y tendido
no ruego para la paz
el más triste del año
vea, de esta falsificación de él
usted oye la lluvia?
rosas y oro
la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno
el sol caminĂł abajo de su trono de oro
pueden hablar de amor en una cabaña

 



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