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son poem

aunque soy poco como todas las pequeñas cosas
como él de quién alcohol en el resplandor del mediodía
por las mañanas nube-grises
por completo de rasgones
resido en la montaña de la tabla
vi las nubes entre las colinas
tristes son que saben no amor
me preguntan donde he estado
dondeyo encuéntrele
el prado se arrastraba
vea que me doy usted

 



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