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poetry is the look

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By: Luis Felipe Jiménez @Felipepoet

A melodious "I tried" was chained like a sigh.

Drowned, whisper of the last melancholy breakthrough, the lover who saw all lost
looked at the visiting cat.

The feline could not determine if this man was ignoring him or looking for him, because he did not get any stimulus to run away, or to approach him.

There is one of both in this tramp date.
There is a letting go in the encounter.

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