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christmas poems

una milla detrás
aunque repine del amor, y rozadura de la razón
oscilado en la horquilla del profundo
estoy viejo y oculto
tenemos ninguna vergüenza?
era una diosa ere el mármol me encontró
le cuento con
sueño, hermano gris de la muerte
había un strangeness en sus labios
hice una pausa el marco abierto
debajo del timón del guerrero
no hay escape al lado del río

 



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