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romantic love poem

él incluso tendría su broma
en sus brazos estaba el placer inmóvil
qué yo le deben
ciudad que no es una ciudad
la luna de levantamiento ha ocultado las estrellas
todavía su gris oscila la torre sobre el mar
apenas como mis dedos en estas llaves
este tazón de fuente de plata antiguo el míos

 



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