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teen love poem

je ne brûle aucun encens
il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
vous entendez la pluie?
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
de nos endroits cachés
maintenant que je me suis refroidi à vous
un regard est mais un rayon

 



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