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contemporary poetry

truely
como ella
hay una hora del resto pacífico
mi madre me enseñó que cada noche
por las mañanas nube-grises
calma como que segundo verano
tres días los oí afligirse cuando pongo absolutamente
nobleza de la muerte otra vez
deje el unsaid encantador de las palabras
velas que derriban de lado en latas del tomate
por completo de rasgones
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
en su tienda guardada

 



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