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suicide poem

cuando los mar-vientos perforaron nuestras soledades
en su tienda guardada
las verdades tremendas éstos sean
la noche era negra y drear
noche misteriosa
era no para ese olor singular
a lo largo de los bancos
todos tragan los ańos
disparando para arriba, cayendo abajo
una vez este césped suave

 



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