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christmas poem

i loro capelli bei
impaurito nient'altro, dico
in settembre
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane
sotto il timone del guerriero
l'agonia di avere troppa alimentazione
per potere vedere ogni lato di ogni domanda
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
migliori che il granito
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
qui si trova una signora la più bella
era una bellezza nei giorni

 



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