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child poetry

quando ero si č rotto a Londra
le ombre delle navi
glass-blower di tempo
abbiamo nessuno shame?
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
amo le vecchie disposizioni melodious
alla mezzanotte
in pieno delle rotture
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
quindi non posso
lascilo essere triste
contro la fiamma verde dell'cratego-albero

 



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