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erotic poetry

conosco non dove
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
i loro capelli bei
mille anni silenziosi fa
ombre alate che scopano vicino
sopra il fiume beckon a me
sentite la pioggia?
non sia falso
non eravamo molti
ho scagliato la mia anima all'aria come un volo del falco
facce belle e tragical

 



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