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love poems

dio
ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
forse č materia che avete morto
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
mai in tutta la mia vita
il mio dispiacere, quando č qui con me
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
amo rubare per un po'via

 



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