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brother poem

tranquillamente, con il reverance, nel awe
il prato stava strisciando
i cieli che erano ashen e sobrio
benchè sia piccolo come tutte le cose piccole
forse
il mio amore allineare dal suo cuscino è aumentato
e così va
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
che probabilità spiteful ruba i unawares

 



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