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black poetry

sto morendo
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
ho visto le stelle pi fiere
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
ho scagliato la mia anima all'aria come un volo del falco
ha incurvato l'inondazione
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
sia paziente, vita, quando l'amore al cancello

 



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