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narrative poetry

algún se quejó al amo
él habla no bien
y como caminamos la hierba fue revuelta débilmente
se levantó y el ámbar era la puesta del sol en el río
en el amanecer, él dijo
lo vi una vez antes
el sol está para arriba
usted dice que usted me ama
el cuerpo puede confinar
había tres en el prado al lado del arroyo
el misterio más oscuro, más extraño
todos dentro y todos sin mí

 



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