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son poem

non brucio incenso
poco cancello è stato raggiunto in fine
in vostri bracci era il piacere tranquillo
dicami
la donna molto ha mancato, come denominate a me, chiamata a me
tengo il vostro cuore
tramite il seno facente male della vasta terra
i poets dicono a
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina

 



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