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modern poetry

perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
il corpo può limitare
è andato
la notte scorsa la luna piena ha posto un panno del bianco
facce belle e tragical
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente
prima del san bronze solenne
che cosa era esso i motori detti
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte

 



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