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baby shower poem

ancora tredici anni
semplicitŕ
che cosa noi ora farŕ
non rimanga nient'altro
il mio figlio č guasto e sono ciechi andanti
glass-blower di tempo
all'interno della mia mano tengo
era una bellezza nei giorni
limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
molto bene, voi liberali
oscillato nella culla del profondo
buona donna

 



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