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concrete poetry

plecat înainte de-ne
printre fum de ceaţă şi de după-amiază de decembrie
duminică călcat în jos de la tronul lui de aur
îndoliat în numere
dragoste a fost cântă o mie de moduri
în linişte, cu reverance, în veneraţie
uplifting, ca vântul a suflat
de la locurile noastre ascunse

 



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