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Looking At The Sky
Unsinkable, is the sky,
apparently above, untouched.
Running through the fissure of it vastness claws
My eyes of a blue fire, follow the wings of the cloud's companions.
My feet stand, painful, like in a Mary go around, that not move, engage.
And without realize, my lost walk, at the sun tuck me.
At this transparent fuel, the sky injects.
Like a burning hole, that never consume.
Make my eyes shining of blind skis
And string's colours touch.
poem
by
Luca Menin
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