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wedding poem

soy fevered
en el frunce de la oscuridad y piden
se van los tres, esas hermanas raras
cuando los mar-vientos perforaron nuestras soledades
aquĂ­ cae ninguna luz
en pueda
se hace el dĂ­a
los cielos que eran ashen y sobrio
su pelo hermoso
vea, ellos vuelven

 



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