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best love poems

ottanta anni hanno passato e piů
uno sguardo č ma un raggio
rumori che si sforzano strapparsi
quegli occhi neri i una volta cosě elogiato
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
non sia falso
in corridoi di sonno avete vagato vicino
mescolisi
era un oysterman giovane alto

 



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