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poetry poem

dígame no
splendor dulce
no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres
pero no puedo ahora leerle
vi que el dios usted la duda?
ponemos
behold yo, en mi chiffon, gasa y malla
mi madre me enseñó que cada noche
ese año
una historia muy notable esto es
déjeme moverse lentamente a través de la calle

 



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