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black poetry

maintenant tandis que mes lèvres vivent
quand vous venez ce soir
et ils marchaient toujours dessus
dans une vieille chambre s'est doucement allumé
bonheur
nous nous étendons
le plus triste de l'année
substance de la lune
les drowses pâles de jour sur l'occidental trempent
soyez dans moi comme modes éternels
tristement parlant
ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
mais alas, rêves justes

 



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