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family poetry

con la puesta del sol
en alguna parte leí un cuento extraño, viejo, oxidado
él vino tomarme por la mano
quién nombrará el viento
repentinamente, fuera de maneras oscuras y frondosas
la mujer faltó mucho, cómo usted llama a mí, llamada a mí
la lluvia encima, y el aire brillante
déjeme moverse lentamente a través de la calle

 



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