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autumn poem

ne soyez pas faux
faites les garçons et les filles vont toujours
aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
peut-être
la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
bonheur
un orage monte sur la marée
il est venu me prendre par la main

 



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