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teen poem

escrito en una noche del vuelo
ayer por la noche la Luna Llena puso un pańo del blanco
he echado el mundo
a alguno los dioses gordos
hombre frío severo
mejore que el granito
en la medianoche
estaba parado
sé lo que usted va a decir
era no para ese olor singular
estoy muriendo
el sol está para arriba
nunca en toda mi vida

 



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