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en la obscuridad y la paz de mi cama final
entre las montañas vagué
plantemos
brilla la edad pasada, el siguiente con esperanza se ve
ponemos
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
tome mis pulseras
la mujer faltó mucho, cómo usted llama a mí, llamada a mí
materia de la luna
era no para ese olor singular
quién nombrará el viento
no me quemo ningún incienso

 



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