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polit le dernier âge, le prochain avec espoir est vu
nous n'étions pas beaucoup
il y a des gains pour toutes nos pertes
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
une fois ce gazon mou
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
écoutez
par de la large le sein faisant mal terre
vous faites entendre
mi plaisirs et palais bien que nous puissions errer
dans des vos bras était le plaisir immobile
ce qui je vous doivent
leurs beaux cheveux
il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement

 



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