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halloween poem

nelle mattine nube-grige
il mio figlio č guasto e sono ciechi andanti
al lover appassionato
vivo dalla riva del fiume
era non per quell'odore singolare
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento
ha una radura, loveliness vento-riparato
ha scoppiato il vino feroce

 



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