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short poem

all'alba, ha detto
mi levo in piedi nel tempo grigio freddo
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
nobility della morte ancora
dicami
il mio amore allineare dal suo cuscino è aumentato
appena come mie barrette su queste chiavi
tutti gli anni sfavorevoli
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
quando venite stasera

 



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