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religious poem

viejo vino a beber
quizás no es ninguna materia que usted murió
hago mi cubierta, pero nadie sabe
velas que derriban de lado en latas del tomate
era una diosa ere el mármol me encontró
repentinamente, fuera de maneras oscuras y frondosas
el eliminar, luchando vainly
usted recuerda

 



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