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retirement poem

era una bellezza nei giorni
quanto selvaggio, come strega-come bizzarro che la vita dovrebbe essere
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
a volte mi domando se realmente allineare
la neve bisbiglia circa me
eliminazione, lottante vainly
era un oysterman giovane alto
dicami non
per allora senza
nobility della morte ancora
stuff della luna

 



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