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pumpkin poem

abbiamo nessuno shame?
ombre alate che scopano vicino
sceso all'alba dalle colline windless
con gli occhi meek e marroni
pensieri tramite la mia testa
un'ombra grigia sottile sul bordo di pensiero
in sua tenda custodita
su e giù va
la nerezza
ciò è la canzone della gioventù
dal puntello, dal mare
quando il velare dagli occhi è alzato
morbido come la base nella terra

 



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