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Villa Acambaro
My love, there was no greater
she held my heart in her hands
her first kiss
the arrow that pierced
if only she could know
I ceased to exist
when she let me go
a thousand love letters
before and after
meant nothing at all
she thought I was empty
depression hides your soul
she has her own wounds
happiness it seems
lives in the clouds
all my desires of long ago
buried in Acambaro
Copyright ©
Arthur Vaso
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