you about gifts. You chose the storm as
form and in the storm gave way to your choice.
The mud did not understand the message and also
sentencing.
Moreover, some of us also
exiles, also
walking the same path,
saw much earlier in your glow, and your tongue
vomited joyless.
I tore the guardians of the stupidity and immanence,
I loved the margin,
by puto,
for idolatry,
by sincere and real, by Argentine
exposed, without fear
condense each social horror Dante form of mockery.
That was your crown of thorns. They say the sharp
Underworld
languages, in Paradise,
the God who looked askance
you received with an orgy sacred.
taught us that an angel
could also be a ghost in drag, why not
lose its glory.
Fernando Peña God bless you, wherever you are.
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