ℓα ροєѕια ροяτα ℓοиταиο - ροєτяγ gοєѕ Ꮠαя αωαγ 🇮🇹
I ask myself , what Paola thinks
behind the cloud of red hair,
when I see it pass rush.
Who knows what he sees Paola,
from those glasses,
into a smile that I know well.
And there are so
a cigarette with a companion,
between a hello,
television in a yard,
To wait for new work.
Marco Vasselli
to
Paola Riccardi
2012
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