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kid poem

melancolĂ­a, azul era
no me quemo ningĂşn incienso
serene de la tarde y brillante verdes
quién nombrará el viento
aflĂ­jase no para el invisible
tengo gusto de ella
paredes y enorme altos
veré una estrella esta noche
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento

 



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