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death poem

un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
è allineare che dite che i dii sono più uso a voi che i fairies
per coprire il pensiero ardente
il mio dispiacere, quando è qui con me
se fossi molto sicuro
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
prenda i miei bracelets
ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
risiedo alla montagna della tabella
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente

 



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