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Sunday, 19 September 2010

WINDOW I

Massive white clouds like pregnant women walking in the park.
An airplane jets the sky.
The tree top peeps like a little girl that tiptoes to reach the grapes on the table.
The blue sky shows through holes in the cloud lace.
The airplane is gone, when will it come?

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Palabras que fluyen, huyen y en algún lado tienen que acabar.