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best friend poem

tristes son que saben no amor
vi los archangels en mi manzana-a'rbol ayer por la noche
a lo largo de una orilla
a lo largo de los bancos
antes del santo de bronce solemne
éstos sean
como vela blanca
la mujer faltó mucho, cómo usted llama a mí, llamada a mí
poco parque que paso a través

 



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