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poem for pastors

hace mil años silenciosos
bucks negros gordos en un cuarto del vino-barril
apenas ahora
una niebla conducía abajo
apenas como mis dedos en estas llaves
la mujer faltó mucho, cómo usted llama a mí, llamada a mí
ahora que me he refrescado a usted
usted dice que usted me ama
quizás
vea, ellos vuelven

 



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