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autumn poem

gros mâles noirs dans une salle de vin-baril
et comment avez osé vous rêve de la réunion
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
êtes vous vivant?
vous avez marche vue par le village
je les ai entendus la nuit
il est allé
exprimons nos passions plus basses
beau
le ciel
là par la fenêtre dans la vieille maison

 



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