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teacher poem

amilo in fine, o se non
dicami
morbidamente piangendo
lungo una riva del fiume
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
fate sentirsi
morbido come la base nella terra
l'odore del è aumentato così falso, le spine così allineare
a volte mi domando se è realmente allineare
calma come che seconda estate
sotto il foglio dusky dell'alloro

 



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