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free love poem

l'enfant qui a jeté la feuille après feuille
les ombres des bateaux
ma douleur, quand elle est ici avec moi
ceux-ci soient
vous entendez la pluie?
il était un jeune oysterman grand
je ne brûle aucun encens
je me suis tenu prêt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
je la pense splendide juste


 



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