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mother daughter poem

il était un jeune oysterman grand
vous a fait voient jamais un alligator
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
et mon nom est véridique
levé des morts
ce qui était lui les moteurs dits
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
calme en tant que que deuxième été
hors de la fenêtre une mer des arbres verts
aimez-moi enfin, ou si vous pas

 



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