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memorial poem

los pequeños rezos blancos
simplemente hablando
encima del sur en la rotura del día
el olor del se levantó tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
dije, yo he cerrado mi corazón
ella debe ir detrás, ella dijo
en alguna parte leí un cuento extraño, viejo, oxidado
cuál guarda
éstos sean
noche misteriosa
debajo del timón del guerrero
voy mi manera complacently
glooms de los vivir-robles

 



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