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erotic poem

splendor dulce
reservado, con reverance, en temor
un poeta, tomando el frenillo de su lengĂĽeta
porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte
cuando era adaptĂł Londres
los hice una oferta todo el adiĂłs
cómo es salvaje, cómo bruja-como extraño que la vida debe ser

 



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