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short love poem

sombras coas alas que barren cerca
su cara es justa y lisa y fina
melancolĂ­a, azul era
tome mis pulseras
sobre ellas todas, mirando abajo
en septiembre
me preguntan donde he estado
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
puesto que he sentido el sentido de la muerte
las montañas son gente silenciosa
muy bien, usted liberales
revuelva

 



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