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black poetry

alti pareti ed enorme
del sole né stelle
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
in corridoi di sonno avete vagato vicino
gaily attraverso i campi abbiamo ballato
behold me, in miei chiffon, garza e canutiglia
siete vivi?
movimento del vostro corpo è come musica
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente

 



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