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friend poem

todos esos tesoros que mienten
el niño que lanzó lejos la hoja después de la hoja
tengo gusto de ella
las sombras de las naves
quién ama la lluvia
las cortinas de la noche caían rápidamente
behold yo, en mi chiffon, gasa y malla
cuando los mar-vientos perforaron nuestras soledades
en la tierra silenciosa
me pregunto a veces si es realmente verdad

 



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