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short love poem

vieux vin à boire
substance de la lune
qui est le coureur dans les cieux
désolé et seul
le parfum est venu
il y avait un temps en anciennes années
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
peu de parc que je traverse
je réside à la montagne de table
un oiseau a chanté

 



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