Frutas

Csar Magrini, in the summer of 1986 writing about Mark Salerno: Paint the everyday, the soft tenderness. Look back, it's yours, sweetened in the gauze of time that undulate and iris. Not this city of ours, which increasingly stubborn in drowning. The gentle street in a town perhaps glimpsed in passing in a dream (and without knowing that we soad ever). The camp, surprised at his warm purity. Flowers and fruit in which the look - ours, not yours - how rarely repairs must be done. Die, not...

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