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gothic poetry

nunca había un sonido al lado de la madera pero de una
tristes son que saben no amor
ciudad que no es una ciudad
no se aflija que encima
llevo a cabo su corazón
quién ama la lluvia
hay cualquiera allí
naranjas de desplume nubian azul-negras
en su tienda guardada
usted está claro
los arcos del puente rojo

 



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