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narrative poetry

l'odore del è aumentato così falso, le spine così allineare
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
i corridoi di marmo resounding lunghi
nelle mattine nube-grige
il fratello, sono fuoco
guardi indietro con gli occhi longing e sappia che seguirò

 



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