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lost love poem

limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
nelle mattine nube-grige
come le aquile sul high alto
mai in tutta la mia vita
sono fevered
all'alba, ha detto
ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
che cosa era esso i motori detti
ci era un momento durante gli anni precedenti

 



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