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birthday poetry

fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
ma alas, sogni giusti
con gli occhi meek e marroni
persino avrebbe suo scherzo
una penna di acciaio
sole e vento e battimento del mare
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
veda, da questa falsificazione di lui

 



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