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From my heart, takes wing a bird
That tries to defeat the delicate Curvature of the sea rim, Where the ocean’s wilderness Embraces the sky’s loneliness; With half-burnt wings, Too red little legs, Far away from the island With my trees in tears Wry and incomplete grown up, She is looking for a coast Where to learn the walking; With the memory stamped by Frisking remembrances Within the remorse’s protective gloom I’m shattering illusions. My heart is whitening.
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