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thanksgiving poetry

non sia falso
corsa alto-sopportata
sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro tč
chi č il corridore nei cieli
quale si conservare
mi sono levato in piedi
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
malinconia, azzurro era
dal pavimento al soffitto
come mi trovo coperto dentro, selezionato dentro
le veritŕ terribili questi sono
alcuni giorni piů ventosi
su e giů va

 



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