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teen love poem

ella cojea con parar paso doloroso
su cara es justa y lisa y fina
dondeyo encuéntrele
déjeme moverse lentamente a través de la calle
podrĂ­amos sino saber
porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte
un destello del oro en gloom y gris
el movimiento de su cuerpo es como mĂşsica
habĂ­a tres en el prado al lado del arroyo
hace tres años hoy
muy bien, usted liberales
oscilado en la horquilla del profundo
estoy viejo y oculto
en el puerto de York nueva

 



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