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writing poetry

una vez este césped suave
entre las montañas vagué
en el frunce de la oscuridad y piden
mi madre me enseñó que cada noche
ido antes de nosotros
a lo largo de los bancos
no permanezca no más
aflĂ­jase no para el invisible
no dé vuelta a su cabeza
hay una ciudad, builded por ninguna mano
como miento cubierto adentro, defendido adentro

 



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