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free love poetry

sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello
questi cuori sono stati tessuti delle gioie umane e cure
sotto la luna della raccolta
li ha fatti mai sentono parlare
con gli occhi meek e marroni
risiedo alla montagna della tabella
non sia falso
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente
in un vecchio alloggiamento si č illuminato morbidamente
calma come che seconda estate
dicami non

 



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