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concrete poetry

claro de luna profundo y blando
fuera del profundo y de la obscuridad
fui arriba y abajo de las calles
un pequeño melocotón en la huerta creció
debajo de mi ventana en una calle de la ciudad
si el asesino rojo piensa él mata
flores de bebés
es usted vivo?
revuelva
los pasillos de mármol resounding largos
no cuelgue ninguna guirnalda
hijas del tiempo
tristemente hablando

 



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