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angel poem

in settembre
la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
il mio figlio č guasto e sono ciechi andanti
oscillato nella culla del profondo
ma alas, sogni giusti
ho fatto una pausa la stoffa per tendine aperta
lasci una conservazione di gioia voi
non prego per pace
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
dicami non
il mio amore allineare dal suo cuscino č aumentato

 



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