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erotic poem

non giri la vostra testa
sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro tè
ancora il suo gray oscilla la torretta sopra il mare
senza sosta
là dalla finestra nella vecchia casa
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
al lato di un campo raso
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
ho fatto una volta soltanto un voto, uno

 



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