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wedding poetry

fino alla sua finestra dell'alloggiamento
quando ero si è rotto a Londra
siete il mio compagno
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
sotto il foglio dusky dell'alloro
bello
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
uno per uno, come va da un albero
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
siete bei e sbiaditi
truely

 



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