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pumpkin poem

je la pense splendide juste
ne restez pas plus
peu de parc que je traverse
quelques jours plus venteux
et mon nom est véridique
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
indéfiniment
tandis que je tenais l'écoute, discrètement sourde-muette
levé des morts
vieux vin Ă  boire

 



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