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death poem

in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri
rumori che si sforzano strapparsi
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
quando, pieno di amore caldo e desideroso
volontŕ glimmer sul mare?
all'interno della mia mano tengo
rose ed oro

 



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