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halloween poem

je secoue mes cheveux dans le vent du matin
je suis le vent qui hésite
il y a trois manières dont les hommes prennent
démontré dans la lueur vacillante dans vos yeux
à minuit
fleurs des bébés
regardez avec les yeux longing et savez que je suivrai
vieux vin à boire
simplement parlant
pas du monde large de totalité
je remplis cette tasse
la terre garde aller de vibration


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