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concrete poetry

el sentarse en su eje de balancín que espera su té
usted piensa, mi muchacho, cuando pongo mis brazos alrededor de usted
con su pelo flaying violentamente
raza alto-llevada
brilla la edad pasada, el siguiente con esperanza se ve
él vino tomarme por la mano
la oscuridad rueda hacia arriba
había una época en años anteriores
éstos sean
no puedo sentir siempre su greatness

 



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