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teen poem

scattando in su, cadendo
ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
parla non bene
sotto il timone del guerriero
era l'autunno dell'anno
quegli occhi neri i una volta cosě elogiato
non ci č moltitudine, comunque guardato e teso
dite che lo amate
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma

 



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