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pumpkin poem

hay una hora del resto pacífico
hijas del tiempo
el aire es como una mariposa
vivido por la orilla
no hay multitud, no obstante está mirado y tendido
soplador de vidrio del tiempo
los días endeared a cada MUSE
vi que usted hunched y temblando en las piedras
tome mis pulseras
debajo de mi ventana en una calle de la ciudad
en su tienda guardada
tenían él e i pero satisfecho

 



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