nalènt...
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Export date: Wed Mar 19 5:48:27 2025 / +0000 GMT

(II) dust


And the wind knocked
on eyelashes ajar
on that stone face honed by the sun
caressing the knobbly wrinkles
of an old drunkard stretched out
in dark lobbies of forgotten dreams.
Grinding words
was the night
sincere
breathing a sand moon

Guido Comin PoetaMatusèl