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mother daughter poem

era no para ese olor singular
lleno esta taza
encima del sur en la rotura del día
éste es el arsenal
de largo hace, en el claro de luna joven
amo mi hora del viento y de la luz
debajo de la luna de la cosecha
le estoy cantando
ese compañero extraño vino en mezclar pies
voluntad usted brilla tenuemente en el mar?
raza alto-llevada

 



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