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first leaf of autumn stroke the back of my head, leaving just tracks
for the beautiful days that will come, for the strong heart-beatings that will lead my soul on the top of the irreversible step built by emotions like pennons on the strings of night, the owl sang the first song of death’s ritual brought by oblivion wind wipes out my silent shadows in the light of the bulbs, where each second deserves a statue for the sweet taste of life *** close to the edge of my sight, the sleeping dust gathers sparkling dunes
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