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christian poem

le estoy cantando
fuera de la ventana un mar de árboles verdes
el aire es lleno de amanecer y de resorte
este tazón de fuente de plata antiguo el míos
mi madre me enseñó que cada noche
cuando miraba en sus ojos
y pan del breaketh no más
como ella
la medianoche pasada
la luz retirada
tráigame la canción suave
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
oscuro-eyed

 



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