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birthday poem

è venuto prenderlo dalla mano
penso spesso alla città bella
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
ora mentre i miei labbri stanno vivendo
la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
le tonalità della notte stavano cadendo velocemente
al lover appassionato
uno per uno, come va da un albero
uplifting, come il vento ha saltato
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla più in anticipo

 



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