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suicide poem

si era muy seguro
le cuento con
cuál guarda
dentro de este sepulcro humilde un conqueror miente
arqueó la inundación
una palabra del vuelo de aquí y allí
de nuestros lugares ocultados
dígame no
esté en mí como los humores eternos
soy cansado de ser amargo y cansado de ser sabio
hay aumentos para todas nuestras pérdidas
un cielo que nunca ha sabido el sol, la luna o las estrellas

 



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