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death poetry

he echado el mundo
mi dolor, cuando ella está aquí con mí
un cielo que nunca ha sabido el sol, la luna o las estrellas
soy fevered
para venir tan pronto a esto imaginaba obscuridad
los poetas dicen
el amor se ha cantado mil maneras
fuera de la ventana un mar de árboles verdes
oscilado en la horquilla del profundo

 



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