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family poetry

avec le coucher du soleil
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
il est venu me prendre par la main
qui appellera le vent
soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues
la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
la pluie plus de, et l'air brillant
laissez-moi se déplacer lentement par la rue

 



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