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angel poem

por las mañanas nube-grises
un poeta, tomando el frenillo de su lengüeta
pájaros contra el viento de abril
como él de quién alcohol en el resplandor del mediodía
quién ama la lluvia
dígame
los días endeared a cada MUSE
soy una mujer
la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno
llevo a cabo su corazón
las sombras de las naves
como va un hombre desnudo yo

 



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