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lyric poem

melancolía, azul era
y como caminamos la hierba fue revuelta débilmente
como miento cubierto adentro, defendido adentro
el prado se arrastraba
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
flores de bebés
si el asesino rojo piensa él mata
el movimiento de su cuerpo es como música

 



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