What else I'll have to get used?
guess there is no longer, life.
And 'a pull, a free ride.
Another city, life science, saints.
E 'your vein, where ice
my children.
And the silence, wounded.
Silence.
My dinner resistance fingers.
The final turns of the struggle.
I no longer go.
'm sick of light and years. One wrinkle that
tear from their eyes.
The day is not what was said
you tonight in the funeral
of my love atheist.
L.manco.
(draft http://appuntidiunamentefranca.blogspot.com/)
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