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black poetry

mistero più scuro e più sconosciuto
là dalla finestra nella vecchia casa
l'alba era verde mela
volontà glimmer sul mare?
non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta così tanto oro
in vostri bracci era il piacere tranquillo
quale si conservare
braided e tessuto
il mio figlio è guasto e sono ciechi andanti
una tempesta sta guidando sulla marea

 



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