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grandma poem

je me demande parfois s'il est vraiment vrai
mais alas, rêves justes
fleur blanche de mousse, fleur rouge de flamme
j'ai moulé le monde
sans aucun doute je me rappelle toujours
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
dossier une nuit de vol
le plus triste de l'année
nous nous étendons

 



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