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son poem

aumentato dai morti
prenda i miei bracelets
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
la pioggia finito e l'aria brillante
ombre alate che scopano vicino
chi chiamerà il vento
la terra mantiene certo andare di vibrazione
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
short e dolce ed abbiamo arrivato alla fine di esso
quando ho esaminato i vostri occhi
il merriment infinito e insensato delle stelle

 



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