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birthday poetry

la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
ci sono tre sensi in cui gli uomini prendono
poco parco che attraverso
ci sono guadagni per tutte le nostre perdite
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
dicami non
vedo tutti gli spiriti umani
le ombre delle navi
tramite il seno facente male della vasta terra
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
scuro-eyed

 



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