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christian poem

bucks negros gordos en un cuarto del vino-barril
pero no puedo ahora leerle
la oscuridad rueda hacia arriba
en el amanecer, él dijo
veo todos los ingenios humanos
el prado se arrastraba
expresemos nuestras pasiones más bajas
arrojé mi alma al aire como un vuelo del halcón
travails de la tierra

 



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