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epic poetry

prenda i miei bracelets
una volta questo tappeto erboso molle
non giri la vostra testa
l'alba era verde mela
sono andato su e giù le vie
sono il vento che esita
alla mezzanotte
dio
quell'anno
amilo in fine, o se non
sono vecchio e cieco
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla più in anticipo
semplicità
il sole è in su

 



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