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break up poem

mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
usted es mi compañero
usted piensa, mi muchacho, cuando pongo mis brazos alrededor de usted
veo todos los ingenios humanos
ochenta años han pasado, y más
compuesto de loveliness solamente
nobleza de la muerte otra vez
sueño, hermano gris de la muerte
cortocircuito y dulce, y hemos venido al extremo de él
sobre ellas todas, mirando abajo

 



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