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thanksgiving poem

qué yo le deben
ochenta años han pasado, y más
el misterio más oscuro, más extraño
hermano, soy fuego
al amante apasionado
no me quemo ningún incienso
placeres mediados de y palacios aunque podemos vagar
glooms de los vivir-robles
amé a mujer
uno con usted
qué nosotros ahora hará

 



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