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short love poem

leurs beaux cheveux
doucement maintenant la lumière du jour
jusqu'à sa fenêtre de chambre
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
allé avant nous
un regard est mais un rayon
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
quand les heures du jour sont numérotées
tous ces trésors qui se trouvent

 



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