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pumpkin poem

non brucio incenso
quegli occhi neri i una volta così elogiato
movimento del vostro corpo è come musica
potremmo ma sapere
la festività reale è stata fatta
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno
fiori dei bambini
passato inesorabile di thou
le navi stanno trovandosi nella baia
la notte era nera e drear
le preghiere bianche piccole

 



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