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Escribir por las fugas... desasolvando poros....
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domingo
un epígrafe apenas
" I saw the green fields turn into stone, such lonely homes"
Damon Albarn
the colour of your hair is turning gray not by aging,
but the nothingness, oblivion.
cuz the static eye in the static face has nothing to forget,
from the trenches we fight the blunting;
showing pictures, being pictures.
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