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poem for pastors

splendor dolce
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
senza dubbio mi ricordo di ancora
ho visto le stelle più fiere
sole e vento e battimento del mare
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
il corpo può limitare
città che non è una città
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
dal pavimento al soffitto

 



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