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autumn poem

ancora tredici anni
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
senza sosta
dite che lo amate
mi sono sentito che una principessa sicura
non sia arrabbiato con me
un miglio dietro
è spesso non così?
molto bene, voi liberali
indietro, giri indietro
quando ero si è rotto a Londra
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri

 



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