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love poems

poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
i poets dicono a
basamento qui dal mio lato
era un oysterman giovane alto
le tonalitŕ della notte stavano cadendo velocemente
composto del loveliness da solo
oscillato nella culla del profondo
dal ponticello rude
con il tramonto

 



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