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baby shower poem

he visto las estrellas más orgullosas
podríamos sino saber
en y de sí mismo
sueño, hermano gris de la muerte
el existir del cisne
mundo que cambia bajo mi mano
éste es el arsenal
quizás no es ninguna materia que usted murió
cuando los mar-vientos perforaron nuestras soledades
fuera de mí indigno y desconocido
debajo de la luna de la cosecha

 



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