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sad death poem

hay uno que ese i amó una vez tanto
con rojo de la sangre de los labios y el corazón de la piedra
flores de bebés
con los ojos mansos, marrones
cuando libertad de su altura de la montaña
todos se callan a lo largo del potomac
nosotros que estaban parados
escrito en una noche del vuelo
había una época en años anteriores
sacudaro mi pelo en el viento de la mañana

 



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