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poetry poem

calma como que segundo verano
la fragancia vino
dentro de este sepulcro humilde un conqueror miente
un cielo que nunca ha sabido el sol, la luna o las estrellas
placeres mediados de y palacios aunque podemos vagar
he tenido un miedo en mi vida
una vida en la onda del océano
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
en sus brazos estaba el placer inmóvil

 



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