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suicide poem

musing, entre la puesta del sol y la obscuridad
mi amor verdadero de su almohadilla se levantó
cuando los mar-vientos perforaron nuestras soledades
se van los tres, esas hermanas raras
un pequeño melocotón en la huerta creció
de largo hace, en el claro de luna joven
lleno esta taza
y como caminamos la hierba fue revuelta débilmente

 



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