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marriage poem

ámeme en el último, o si usted no
el elevar, como el viento sopló
sobre los tejados compita con las sombras de nubes
velas que derriban de lado en latas del tomate
bucks negros gordos en un cuarto del vino-barril
vea el tentativo
hombre frío severo
las montañas son gente silenciosa
ayer por la noche la Luna Llena puso un paño del blanco
una mirada es solamente un rayo

 



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