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pumpkin poem

musing, entre la puesta del sol y la obscuridad
el solo puño apretado levantado y alista
los días hypocritic
dije, yo he cerrado mi corazón
no hay multitud, no obstante está mirado y tendido
entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre
materia de la luna
a través del pecho de dolor de la amplia tierra
burly, humilde-abeja el dormitar
apenas ahora

 



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