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Young mother
Young mother
With her leather boots, curves between her legs
Incompressible smile, are you happy or sad?
I tell my love to the wind that breeze your beauty
Innocent Devil Cherubim face
Your body stay, between my hands silky hugs.
What would be of you?
Now that the seasons emigrate.
It left you behind with the love of your child.
Life start young to live old
Only memory stay still
The time rude, without warning
Wake you up to every morning.
poem
by
Luca Menin
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