The warmth
The warmth
Feeling wrinkled is not for lack of warmth;
With the noise of the claws of loneliness;
Between bites of sublime incense;
Joy and brotherhood, avoiding falsehood;
The swarm, a thin flock, climbs to the sky;
Between wrinkles, dead hours and sickle blows; ...
L'EMPORDÀ
{SOPA DE CABRA}
TITI TIME (c).
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