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love poetry chat

fiori dei bambini
fra le montagne ho vagato
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
lucida l'ultima et, il seguente con speranza visto
di ci non era mai un suono al lato il legno ma uno
ci situiamo
ancora il suo gray oscilla la torretta sopra il mare
non brucio incenso
allineare che dite che i dii sono pi uso a voi che i fairies
sotto il timone del guerriero
conosco non dove

 



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