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autumn poem

non sia falso
una tempesta sta guidando sulla marea
li ha fatti mai vedono un coccodrillo
ci sono guadagni per tutte le nostre perdite
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
quel compagno sconosciuto č venuto sul mescolareare i piedi
bello
l'agonia di avere troppa alimentazione
non giri la vostra testa
ma non posso ora leggerlo
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro

 



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