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dark poetry

come esso
ora che mi sono raffreddato a voi
non brucio incenso
eliminazione, lottante vainly
era l'autunno dell'anno
perchč sono le cose che non hanno morte
improvvisamente, dai sensi scuri e frondosi
all'interno della mia mano tengo
la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
in settembre

 



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