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poetry poem

había un strangeness en sus labios
flores de bebés
usted piensa, mi muchacho, cuando pongo mis brazos alrededor de usted
una tormenta está montando en la marea
cortocircuito y dulce, y hemos venido al extremo de él
cuando, lleno de amor caliente e impaciente
cuando la noche mandila a lo largo de las calles de la ciudad
la pienso espléndido justo
encima del sur en la rotura del día

 



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