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poetry in motion

agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
lucida l'ultima età, il seguente con speranza è visto
lo ho visto una volta prima
limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine
come le aquile sul high alto
quando vado di nuovo a terra
ho fatto una volta soltanto un voto, uno
bello
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred

 



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