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teen poetry

pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
persino avrebbe suo scherzo
faccialo rotare giù dal prato
nel porto di nuovo York
travails della terra
il cielo
portimi la canzone morbida
il corpo può limitare
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
la penso splendido giusto
all'interno di questa tomba umile un conqueror si trova
la luna aumentante ha nascosto le stelle

 



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