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memorial poem

cuando la noche mandila a lo largo de las calles de la ciudad
cortocircuito y dulce, y hemos venido al extremo de él
el mirar más allá
fuera de mí indigno y desconocido
sol y viento y golpe del mar
asustado no más, digo
aunque repine del amor, y rozadura de la razón
los días hypocritic
mi alma es un campo arado oscuro
el movimiento de su cuerpo es como música
las canciones antiguas

 



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