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love poetry

déjeme ser triste
amo mi hora del viento y de la luz
placeres mediados de y palacios aunque podemos vagar
su pelo hermoso
evidenciado en la luz tenue en sus ojos
velas que derriban de lado en latas del tomate
tristes son que saben no amor
debajo de mi ventana en una calle de la ciudad
cómo es salvaje, cómo bruja-como extraño que la vida debe ser

 



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