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love poems

l'odore del è aumentato così falso, le spine così allineare
ombre alate che scopano vicino
sono vecchio e cieco
fate non sentirsi
short e dolce ed abbiamo arrivato alla fine di esso
è spesso non così?
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
i giorni hypocritic
chi è il corridore nei cieli

 



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