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teen poetry

la neige chuchote au sujet de moi
elle doit retourner, elle a dit
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
c'est le bateau de la perle
peut-être ce n'est aucune matière que vous êtes morte
j'aime voler pendant quelque temps loin
roses et or
tressé et tissé
les vérités terribles ceux-ci soient

 



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