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prose poetry

di ci non era mai un suono al lato il legno ma uno
sotto un albero di diffusione della castagna
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri
tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
tre giorni li ho sentiti addolorarsi quando mi situo completamente
tutti quei tesori che si trovano
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare

 



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