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love poem

vea, de esta falsificación de él
en números mournful
lo van
resido en la montaña de la tabla
se levantó y el ámbar era la puesta del sol en el río
dije
materia de la luna
hombre frío severo
fuera de mí indigno y desconocido
con la puesta del sol
mi dolor, cuando ella está aquí con mí
el misterio más oscuro, más extraño

 



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