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death poem

dites-moi
je vais ma maničre complacently
un, comme part d'un arbre
bonne femme
et ils marchaient toujours dessus
ŕ l'amoureux passionné
il n'y a aucune bande, toutefois observé et tendu
dites-moi pas
je tiens votre coeur
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
indéfiniment
il est venu me prendre par la main

 



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