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lost love poem

lasci il unsaid bello di parole
ora mentre i miei labbri stanno vivendo
le vecchie canzoni
la neve bisbiglia circa me
la terra mantiene certo andare di vibrazione
una volta questo tappeto erboso molle
se esso
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si sviluppata
ancora il suo gray oscilla la torretta sopra il mare
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla pi in anticipo

 



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