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love poem

viejo vino a beber
ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos
soplador de vidrio del tiempo
aquí miente una señora más hermosa
melancolía, azul era
porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte
en el frunce de la oscuridad y piden
arrojé mi alma al aire como un vuelo del halcón
flor blanca de la espuma, flor roja de la llama

 



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