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family poem

nosotros que estaban parados
qué yo le deben
no cuelgue ninguna guirnalda
encima de los prados ricos con maíz
arqueó la inundación
ella sabe un lanzamiento barato
resido en la montaña de la tabla
al revés, dé vuelta al revés
con rojo de la sangre de los labios y el corazón de la piedra
el más triste del año
calma como que segundo verano
deje el unsaid encantador de las palabras

 



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