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teen poem

appena come mie barrette su queste chiavi
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
sotto la mia finestra in una via della cittĂ 
sono il vento che esita
dai prati ricchi con cereale
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
in sua tenda custodita
ho fatto una pausa la stoffa per tendine aperta
gloom
il lampo ha esposto a flash ed ha alzato
non brucio incenso
dio
tristemente parlando

 



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