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thank you poem

aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
aimez-moi enfin, ou si vous pas
pour ces bras blancs au sujet de mon cou
très bien, vous libéraux
fait longtemps polir la lumière du soleil d'été
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
en septembre
quand vous venez ce soir
faites les garçons et les filles vont toujours

 



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