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mother daughter poem

impaurito nient'altro, dico
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
nei loro regimentals ragged
braided e tessuto
ho visto che il dio voi lo dubita?
i loro capelli bei
come come le stelle è questo il bianco, facce nameless
era non per quell'odore singolare
e pane del breaketh non di più

 



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