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concrete poetry

che cosa era esso i motori detti
la mia anima va placcata nelle cose gorgeous
dio
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
felicitĂ 
amico, di cui il sorriso è venuto essere
l'alba era verde mela
tutti quei tesori che si trovano
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
un miglio dietro

 



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