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christmas poems

la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
quando vado di nuovo a terra
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
in settembre
amico, di cui il sorriso è venuto essere
lasci il unsaid bello di parole
tutto l'mio amore per il mio dolce
buona donna
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
in corridoi di sonno avete vagato vicino

 



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