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halloween poetry

cuando la noche mandila a lo largo de las calles de la ciudad
nunca había un sonido al lado de la madera pero de una
porqué son las cosas que no tienen ninguna muerte
no ruego para la paz
babylon -- donde voy a soñar
splendor dulce
en números mournful
hay una ciudad, builded por ninguna mano
mi madre me trenza las rosas mojadas con rocío


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