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poem for dad

perchè così triste mio bello?
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
siete bei e sbiaditi
la luce ritirata
migliori che il granito
per coprire il pensiero ardente
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
ad alcuno i dii grassi
il più triste dell'anno

 



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