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math poem

ho fatto una volta soltanto un voto, uno
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
ciò è l'arsenale
come come le stelle è questo il bianco, facce nameless
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
un'ombra grigia sottile sul bordo di pensiero
dove io trovili
il mio figlio è guasto e sono ciechi andanti

 



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