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funny poetry

metà di piaceri e palazzi benchè possiamo vagare
e con l'uccello di ronzio
il mio figlio è guasto e sono ciechi andanti
ottanta anni hanno passato e più
ci è una città, builded da nessuna mano
e così va
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
come candela bianca
forse
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri
della l'oscurità e pace nel mia base finale

 



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