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suicide poem

ottanta anni hanno passato e più
con gli occhi meek e marroni
qui cade nessuna luce
glass-blower di tempo
alla mezzanotte
ho fatto una pausa la stoffa per tendine aperta
in tutte le cose non parlate di
fra le montagne ho vagato
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
alcuni dei hurts che avete curato
la luce ritirata
sotto la luna della raccolta
a che cosa una donna la paragonerà cara
il dolce con il fern ed è aumentato

 



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