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family poem

rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
fra il fumo e nebbia di un pomeriggio di dicembre
il fratello, sono fuoco
in pieno delle rotture
dal puntello, dal mare
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
qui si trova una signora la più bella
morbido come la base nella terra
glooms delle viv-quercie

 



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