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black poetry

tenemos ninguna vergüenza?
plantemos
amo mi hora del viento y de la luz
se hace el día
cuando el viento trabaja contra nosotros en la obscuridad
disparando para arriba, cayendo abajo
dulce y fuerte
un pensamiento dulce solemne
era no para ese olor singular
contra la llama verde del espino-a'rbol
fuera del profundo y de la obscuridad
el amo de destinos humanos es yo

 



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