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poem for pastors

sotto il foglio dusky dell'alloro
ho fatto una volta soltanto un voto, uno
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
mentre mi sono levato in piedi ascoltare, discreetly dumb
se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
era l'autunno dell'anno
glooms delle viv-quercie
quando, pieno di amore caldo e desideroso
mescolisi
uno con voi
ombre alate che scopano vicino

 



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