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christmas poem

mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
le corps peut confiner
exprimons nos passions plus basses
et ainsi elle va
ce qui était lui les moteurs dits
au-dessus d'elles toutes, regardant vers le bas
quand la nuit dérive le long des rues de la ville
bien que je sois peu en tant que toutes les petites choses
un regard est mais un rayon

 



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