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JARDÍN

written by: ayamlearsi

@ayamlearsi

 

Que jardín es este,
qué aroma es,
qué tacto es.
Desnuda corres en ti misma, desnuda en mi cabeza,
mientras duermo.

ayamlearsi

ayamlearsi

Saber que inexorablemente morirás le da un sentido pirrico a la vida.

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ayamlearsi

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