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funny poetry

déme el hambre
encima de los prados ricos con maíz
mientras que estaba parado escuchar, discreto mudo
cortocircuito y dulce, y hemos venido al extremo de él
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío
del sol ni de estrellas
cuando la noche mandila a lo largo de las calles de la ciudad
usted es mi compañero
entre el humo y la niebla de una tarde de diciembre

 



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