that I have for you
cicada song.
song for you you're quiet, shaded
alone in the big house. It fits
to my
It fits to my slight trend towards
and the smell of burnt
fugitive.
It suits the warm wind that
tick
stars
garlic into the furnace of sand.
born out of anger
the thorny thistle and goat
consoles with its flower.
Raffaele Carrieri
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