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pumpkin poem

alla mezzanotte
era una bellezza nei giorni
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
ed il mio nome sincero
perch sono le cose che non hanno morte
il prato stava strisciando
ora mentre i miei labbri stanno vivendo
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello
semplicemente parlando
quale desidero rilevare
poco parco che attraverso
passato inesorabile di thou
tranquillamente, con il reverance, nel awe
bello

 



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