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good bye poem

c'est l'arsenal
voici ne tomber aucune lumière
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
la lune se levante a caché les étoiles
basculé dans le berceau du profond
à minuit
babylon -- où je vais rêver
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
seule

 



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