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mother daughter poem

sono il vento che esita
o giusta e stately domestica, di cui occhi
non sia arrabbiato con me
volontŕ glimmer sul mare?
perchč facciali sempre basamento lŕ che rabbrividisce
dialo
ha sentito i bambini giocare al sole
non posso ritenere sempre il suo greatness
braided e tessuto
per allora senza

 



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