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gothic poetry

beaux, tragical visages
sous la lune de moisson
ces coeurs ont été tissés des joies et des soins humains
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc
comme bougie blanche
je sais pas oů
ne vous affligez pas qu'elle plus de
tous en dedans et tous sans moi
ma mčre me tortille des roses humides avec la rosée
vous avez marche vue par le village

 



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