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def poetry jam

no cuelgue ninguna guirnalda
como vela blanca
me pregunto a veces si es realmente verdad
mi dolor, cuando ella está aquí con mí
ruédeme abajo por el prado
con rojo de la sangre de los labios y el corazón de la piedra
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
en su vuelo
no dé vuelta a su cabeza
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
en el frunce de la oscuridad y piden

 



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