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poetry in motion

no puedo ahora decirle
las verdades tremendas éstos sean
travails de la tierra
era no para ese olor singular
deje una subsistencia de la alegría usted
mi dolor, cuando ella está aquí con mí
los días melancólicos han venido
su cara es justa y lisa y fina
para entonces fuera
había un strangeness en sus labios
mire detrás con los ojos longing y sepa que seguiré

 



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