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concrete poetry

en y encendido
entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre
oscilado en la horquilla del profundo
por lo tanto no puedo
quién nombrará el viento
raza alto-llevada
no hay multitud, no obstante está mirado y tendido
déme
vea el tentativo
las naves están mintiendo en la bahía
un destello del oro en gloom y gris

 



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