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writing poetry

he venido en el desierto porque mi alma es athirst
vi con los ojos abiertos
tenía un sueño y me desperté con él
de piso al techo
sobre los tejados compita con las sombras de nubes
vea, de esta falsificación de él
una historia muy notable esto es
el pasar a través de las paredes amontonadas y feas
los poetas dicen
con los ojos mansos, marrones
en su tienda guardada

 



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