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sex poem

hace mil años silenciosos
la pienso espléndido justo
sueño, hermano gris de la muerte
en sus brazos estaba el placer inmóvil
ochenta años han pasado, y más
un cielo que nunca ha sabido el sol, la luna o las estrellas
el dulce con el fern y se levantó
ésta es la canción de la juventud
porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte

 



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