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concrete poetry

non brucio incenso
appena come mie barrette su queste chiavi
la luna aumentante ha nascosto le stelle
ora
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
lungo una riva del fiume
siete bei e sbiaditi
non sia falso
felicitĂ 
splendido e terribile il vostro amore
siete il mio compagno
li prevedo
braided e tessuto
sentite la pioggia?

 



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