Zingaro
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Yes, well.A Poem by Zingaroyes, well. At 3 A.M., there’s nothing you can do.When moonlight fractures outlines into smudgeand splinters integers to decimals;when dustbal.. |
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The ViolistA Poem by ZingaroYour new instrument is my being. |
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DelightA Poem by ZingaroTranslations: (German) Haus des Lebens- House of Love mein Schatz- My Treasure |
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