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autumn poem

poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
città che non è una città
ancora tredici anni
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
ma alas, sogni giusti
che cosa noi ora farà
benchè repine di amore e strofinio di motivo
una tempesta sta guidando sulla marea
quando ero un ragazzo all'università
basamento qui dal mio lato
siete il mio compagno
per verità, per amore

 



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