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friendship poetry

no hay escape al lado del río
con los ojos mansos, marrones
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
poca puerta fue alcanzada en el último
si el asesino rojo piensa él mata
ahora mientras que están viviendo mis labios
debajo de la luna de la cosecha
con su pelo flaying violentamente
tres días los oí afligirse cuando pongo absolutamente

 



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