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erotic poetry

en la medianoche
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
venido abajo en el amanecer de las colinas windless
pero no puedo ahora leerle
no hay escape al lado del río
era el otońo del ańo
hace de largo la luz del sol del verano brillar
mi amor verdadero de su almohadilla se levantó

 



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