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concrete poetry

hermano, soy fuego
para estos brazos blancos sobre mi cuello
para poder ver cada lado de cada pregunta
las naves están mintiendo en la bahía
todavía trece años
en septiembre
las estrellas cayeron de cielo
sueño, hermano gris de la muerte
plantemos
hay un país por completo del vino
como vela blanca
hay uno que ese i amó una vez tanto
los días hypocritic
hay cualquiera allí

 



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