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thank you poem

in pieno delle rotture
sentite la pioggia?
era una bellezza nei giorni
ottanta anni hanno passato e più
veda, rinviano
sonno, fratello grigio della morte
ha detto
braided e tessuto
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
la gradisco
lungo una riva del fiume
ma non posso ora leggerlo
come come le stelle è questo il bianco, facce nameless
quando ero si è rotto a Londra

 



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