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short love poem

una foschia stava guidando giù
chi ama la pioggia
le verità terribili questi sono
da solo
le ombre pongono lungo broadway
tutti quei tesori che si trovano
il mio figlio è guasto e sono ciechi andanti
l'agonia di avere troppa alimentazione
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
dal puntello, dal mare

 



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