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poem

il fratello, sono fuoco
per coprire il pensiero ardente
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
per potere vedere ogni lato di ogni domanda
ancora tredici anni
se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello
come livellare cade
lascilo essere triste
o giusta e stately domestica, di cui occhi

 



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