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poem

scuro-eyed
mondo che cambia sotto la mia mano
dal ponticello rude
con di anima dei labbri colore rosso e cuore della pietra
lucida l'ultima età, il seguente con speranza è visto
nel porto di nuovo York
mentre mi sono levato in piedi ascoltare, discreetly dumb
veda, da questa falsificazione di lui
poco parco che attraverso
per potere vedere ogni lato di ogni domanda

 



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