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You're an emerald zipped up
you are like a thousand eyes;
that traverse the Universe ...
you are like stone
made new sand and water.

Grain to Ladder Magda sand
I take you with my arms,
because my tears
reel in your mermaid kisses.

Magda mother you are full;
like a statue of sand,
leave my rib and my hip
to be attached to your zipper.

Where should you be and how are you?
if you are not dressed as a skirt,
all skirt all whole
all mine, without a change,
makes us think Magdalena.

Emerald impregnated in the stone ...
no one will change your world,
since the world grows like the wind;
like the one who catches your nose
like the one that ages your brain
spawned in fields of mist ...

You are wind ... from the high tree,
of the highest in the world,
of emerald paths ...
you are the indifferent wind that carries your weight;
condense your grief ...,
and rush your sweat into the most beautiful sand ...

Hey Magda sweat;
sweat beads raining sand on you,
you don't aged and you don't die ...
Well you and heaven
they are a poetry family
that pierce your eyes and mine,
in the conquest of having you Magdalena ...
Tuscany 1300 bC.

— The End —