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narrative poetry

mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
escrito en una noche del vuelo
no del mundo ancho del conjunto
vea, de esta falsificación de él
a lo largo de una orilla
usted es mi compañero
asustado no más, digo
un cielo que nunca ha sabido el sol, la luna o las estrellas
usted está claro
los he oído en la noche
pienso a menudo en la ciudad hermosa

 



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