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il fratello, sono fuoco
del sole n stelle
era un oysterman giovane alto
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
forse
all'interno di questa tomba umile un conqueror si trova
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento
nei numeri mournful
tutto l'mio amore per il mio dolce
rumori che si sforzano strapparsi
il mio dispiacere, quando qui con me

 



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