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figlie di tempo
per allora senza
braided e tessuto
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
il più triste dell'anno
ascolti il mare suonante
quando il velare dagli occhi è alzato
ho avuto un timore nella mia vita
o giusta e stately domestica, di cui occhi
esprimiamo le nostre passioni più basse
il bambino che ha gettato via il foglio dopo il foglio
riassunto su una notte di volo
ha detto

 



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