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sex poem

là dalla finestra nella vecchia casa
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
ora che mi sono raffreddato a voi
se avessi saputo lo stretto una prigione è amore
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
città che non è una città
dicami
che cosa io devono voi
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
esprimiamo le nostre passioni più basse
ciò è la nave della perla

 



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