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lost love poem

se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé
chantez-encore à la chanson vous chanté
le long d'une rive
je suis dans l'amour avec les endroits prévoyants élevés
je me tiens par temps gris froid
doux comme lit dans la terre
en septembre
il est venu me prendre par la main

 



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