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christmas poem

la tierra guarda cierto ir de la vibración
a lo largo de los bancos
debajo de la hoja oscura del laurel
un cielo que nunca ha sabido el sol, la luna o las estrellas
la agonía del tener demasiada energía
arrojé mi alma al aire como un vuelo del halcón
cuando las horas del día se numeran
buena mujer
para la verdad, para el amor

 



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