Photo: Sebastian Miquel I do not want to tell me
the word orange.
Me comes the sun,
my house,
my house,
and lost children. There
taste of some evening entertainment
and water.
There was a light of grace, depth of soul
There was a fine bird singing
the neighbor's yard. There was heavy dahlias
in whose shadow the cat
yawned.
In summer
party to eat the fig
mentioned!
say I do not want the word
orange (or orange or nap)
hurts that he loved.
JUAN JOSE HERNANDEZ
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