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prose poetry

mi amor verdadero de su almohadilla se levantó
escuche el mar del sonido
las estrellas cayeron de cielo
naranjas de desplume nubian azul-negras
déme el hambre
le estoy cantando
hago mi cubierta, pero nadie sabe
algunos días más ventosos
hay cualquiera allí
vi que usted hunched y temblando en las piedras
en el frunce de la oscuridad y piden

 



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