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i love you poem

usted piensa, mi muchacho, cuando pongo mis brazos alrededor de usted
el aire es como una mariposa
los pequeños rezos blancos
una milla detrás
cuando las horas del dĂ­a se numeran
materia de la luna
nosotros que estaban parados
el prado se arrastraba
no sea falso
de largo hace, en el claro de luna joven
algunos días más ventosos
una niebla conducĂ­a abajo

 



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