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lost love poem

aunque repine del amor, y rozadura de la razón
los drowses pálidos del día en el occidental empapan
cuál era él los motores dichos
ese compañero extraño vino en mezclar pies
arqueó la inundación
como águilas en colmo ascendente
las naves están mintiendo en la bahía
sea paciente, vida, cuando el amor está en la puerta
apenas como mis dedos en estas llaves
naranjas de desplume nubian azul-negras

 



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