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african american poetry

pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
behold me, in miei chiffon, garza e canutiglia
dicami più di meno o dicami di più
ho entrato nel deserto perché la mia anima è athirst
lascilo muoversi lentamente tramite la via
senza dubbio mi ricordo di ancora
li ho sentiti nella notte
mistero più scuro e più sconosciuto

 



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