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romantic poetry

là dalla finestra nella vecchia casa
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
ero un goddess ere il marmo lo ha trovato
scattando in su, cadendo
mondo che cambia sotto la mia mano
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
il sole è in su
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
sono fevered

 



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