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footprint poem

los cielos que eran ashen y sobrio
la luz retirada
escuche
he ganado la raza
pasado implacable del thou
en y de sí mismo
usted piensa, mi muchacho, cuando pongo mis brazos alrededor de usted
quién ama la lluvia
como va un hombre desnudo yo
quién nombrará el viento
en la tierra silenciosa
felicidad
en el frunce de la oscuridad y piden

 



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