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christian poetry

plantemos
en sus brazos estaba el placer inmóvil
las canciones antiguas
dice de buenas viejas épocas
mi madre me enseñó que cada noche
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
hay una hora del resto pacífico
dije, yo he cerrado mi corazón
resido en la montaña de la tabla

 



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