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funny poetry

era un oysterman joven alto
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocĂ­o
debajo de mi ventana en una calle de la ciudad
una pluma del acero
placeres mediados de y palacios aunque podemos vagar
caras hermosas, tragical
deje el unsaid encantador de las palabras
tráigame la canción suave
estoy viejo y oculto

 



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