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family poem

dans le port de New York
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
vous êtes beau et fané
j'ai jeté mon âme à l'air comme un vol de faucon
en matins nuage-gris
bien que je sois peu en tant que toutes les petites choses

 



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Second Mortgage

November 2007 Mortgage News

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