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friendship poems

mon âme disparaît plaquée dans des choses magnifiques
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
très bien, vous libéraux
pourquoi faites-vous toujours stand tremblant là
j'ai vu la première poire
robuste, humble-abeille de somnoler
il y a un pays complètement de vin
quand je suis retourné au coucher du soleil

 



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