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death poetry

fui arriba y abajo de las calles
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
a qué una mujer la comparará querida
le hizo ven siempre un cocodrilo
soplador de vidrio del tiempo
todavía recuerdo sin duda alguna
debajo de la luna de la cosecha
porqué entonces, la necesidad nosotros ve?

 



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