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sorry poem

era un oysterman joven alto
le cuento con
dios
quizás no es ninguna materia que usted murió
vea, de esta falsificación de él
no sea falso
renueve la visión del placer
pero alas, sueños justos
voluntad usted brilla tenuemente en el mar?
encima del sur en la rotura del día
quién nombrará el viento
amé a mujer
como vela blanca
una historia muy notable esto es

 



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