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short poem

sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro tè
quel compagno sconosciuto è venuto sul mescolareare i piedi
ci è un'ora di riposo pacifico
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
siete bei e sbiaditi
là dalla finestra nella vecchia casa
il cielo
diami la fame
mescolisi
ci è una città, builded da nessuna mano
come un uomo nudo io va

 



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