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thanksgiving poem

sia in me come gli atteggiamenti eternal
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
una penna di acciaio
contro la fiamma verde dell'cratego-albero
la sua faccia č giusta e liscia e fine
per guardare tutto il giorno l'onda blu arricciarsi e rompersi
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi

 



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