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sex poem

mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
el existir del cisne
le cuento con
ella oyó a niños el jugar en el sol
llevo a cabo su corazĂłn
éstos sean
todavĂ­a recuerdo sin duda alguna
pero no puedo ahora leerle
todos se callan a lo largo del potomac
la nieve susurra sobre mĂ­
fuera de mĂ­ indigno y desconocido

 



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