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writing poetry

penso spesso alla cittŕ bella
abbiamo nessuno shame?
come un uomo nudo io va
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
benchč repine di amore e strofinio di motivo
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
al lover appassionato

 



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