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teen love poem

la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
scattando in su, cadendo
due file dei cavoli
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine
la pioggia finito e l'aria brillante
risiedo alla montagna della tabella
travails della terra
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
deve andare indietro, ha detto
chi ama la pioggia
ho visto le stelle piĂą fiere
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta

 



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