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christian poem

una foschia stava guidando giů
ho vinto la corsa
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
lascilo muoversi lentamente tramite la via
per allora senza
una parola di volo di qui e lŕ
quando la notte va alla deriva lungo le vie della cittŕ
sopra i tetti corra le ombre delle nubi
ho visto che il dio voi lo dubita?
stuff della luna
sotto il timone del guerriero

 



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