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son poem

hace usted oír
materia de la luna
flores de bebés
soy cansado de ser amargo y cansado de ser sabio
cuál era él los motores dichos
a través del pecho de dolor de la amplia tierra
he tenido un miedo en mi vida
no puedo ahora decirle
hermano, soy fuego
dígame menos o dígame más

 



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