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mother poem

sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro tè
dio
osservare di là
quando il velare dagli occhi è alzato
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
la penso splendido giusto
stuff della luna
notte mysterious
lungo una riva del fiume
e così va
quindi non posso
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
sia in me come gli atteggiamenti eternal
non eravamo molti

 



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