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lyric poetry

eliminazione, lottante vainly
la neve bisbiglia circa me
sono vecchio e cieco
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
in vostri bracci era il piacere tranquillo
non brucio incenso
behold me, in miei chiffon, garza e canutiglia
ci situiamo
senza sosta
tre giorni li ho sentiti addolorarsi quando mi situo completamente

 



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