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thank you poem

mi amor verdadero de su almohadilla se levantó
para estos brazos blancos sobre mi cuello
al amante apasionado
los días hypocritic
el movimiento de su cuerpo es como música
hay uno que ese i amó una vez tanto
mi alma es un campo arado oscuro
pero alas, sueños justos
el cielo
por lo tanto no puedo
si muero, piense solamente esto en mí
la nieve susurra sobre mí
aquí miente una señora más hermosa


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