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erotic poem

il mio figlio è guasto e sono ciechi andanti
i giorni hypocritic
ero un goddess ere il marmo lo ha trovato
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno
quanto selvaggio, come strega-come bizzarro che la vita dovrebbe essere
ho entrato nel deserto perché la mia anima è athirst
sentite la pioggia?
il bambino che ha gettato via il foglio dopo il foglio
felicità

 



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