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writing poetry

l'aria è piena l'alba del e la molla
amilo in fine, o se non
mistero più scuro e più sconosciuto
guardi indietro con gli occhi longing e sappia che seguirò
l'alba era verde mela
oscillato nella culla del profondo
in tutte le cose non parlate di
e come potreste sogno della riunione

 



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