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death poetry

era una bellezza nei giorni
e con l'uccello di ronzio
la musica i si è sentita con voi era più della musica
oscillato nella culla del profondo
conosco che cosa state andando dire
musing, fra il tramonto e l'oscurità
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
sceso all'alba dalle colline windless
dite che lo amate

 



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