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Poetry of Issue 9: nobody knows where we have been

nobody knows where we have been

it has rained all afternoon

and nobody knows where we have been

from now on

I will remain in your shadow

I will live in the end of seasons when

the insect returns to its larval state

ready to believe that everyone who walks

in the street is somebody I know

but I shall stay in my room

made of your shadow

in a dark room

where death is a disorientated messenger

where I come in this poor dim light

let it be like that

by Luis Benítez

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