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sex poem

una foschia stava guidando giů
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
che cosa noi ora farŕ
perchč sono le cose che non hanno morte
riassunto su una notte di volo
uno sguardo č ma un raggio
ha incurvato l'inondazione
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
rose ed oro
nella sfera

 



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