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birthday poem

aumentato dai morti
senza sosta
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
li ha fatti mai vedono un coccodrillo
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
come mi trovo coperto dentro, selezionato dentro
i poets dicono a
in un vecchio alloggiamento si è illuminato morbidamente

 



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