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happy birthday poem

él habla no bien
bucks negros gordos en un cuarto del vino-barril
el rodillo triste del tambor amortiguado tiene golpe
soy fevered
amigo, que sonrisa ha venido ser
con su pelo flaying violentamente
una mirada es solamente un rayo
he sabido el silencio de las estrellas y del mar
le estoy cantando
para entonces fuera
tan perdido

 



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