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prose poetry

trenzado y tejido
en el amanecer, él dijo
he oído que cierta princesa
aunque soy poco como todas las pequeñas cosas
no hay escape al lado del río
tormenta
el amo de destinos humanos es yo
para mí era concejal gaunt, grave
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres
ido antes de nosotros
estoy viejo y oculto
le cuento con

 



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