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fall poem

je remplis cette tasse
si j'avais su l'étroit une prison est amour
le parfum est venu
le poing serré simple soulevé et préparent
bonheur
et ainsi elle va
il y a une heure du repos paisible
de nos endroits cachés
juste en tant que mes doigts sur ces clefs
bas! 'tis par nuit de gala
est souvent il pas aussi?

 



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