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death poetry

algunos días más ventosos
la lluvia encima, y el aire brillante
viejo vino a beber
en la esfera
era muchas y mucho hace un año
fui arriba y abajo de las calles
se levantó y el ámbar era la puesta del sol en el río
pienso a menudo en la ciudad hermosa
era no para ese olor singular
soy el viento que duda
hermoso

 



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