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fall poetry

uno sguardo è ma un raggio
quale si conservare
calma come che seconda estate
ero un goddess ere il marmo lo ha trovato
short e dolce ed abbiamo arrivato alla fine di esso
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
quando vado di nuovo a terra
il prato stava strisciando
lungo le serie
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine

 



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