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gothic poetry

l'odore del è aumentato così falso, le spine così allineare
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
mi levo in piedi nel tempo grigio freddo
veda, rinviano
quando ero un ragazzo all'università
ha incurvato l'inondazione
questi sono
scattando in su, cadendo
ho fatto una volta soltanto un voto, uno
vedrò stasera una stella

 



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