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love poem

una tormenta está montando en la marea
de piso al techo
su pelo hermoso
aunque soy poco como todas las pequeńas cosas
déme el hambre
con los ojos mansos, marrones
cuál deseo comentar
splendor dulce
por completo de rasgones
soy una mujer
cuando el viento trabaja contra nosotros en la obscuridad
vi con los ojos abiertos
simplicidad
antes del santo de bronce solemne

 



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