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suicide poetry

in settembre
cane dal percalle ed il gatto del calicò
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
dove io trovili
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine
è spesso non così?
lascilo muoversi lentamente tramite la via
gloom
bello
alti pareti ed enorme
fra il fumo e nebbia di un pomeriggio di dicembre
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente

 



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