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teenage love poem

ma mère me tortille des roses humides avec la rosée
sommeil gentiment dans vos tombes humbles
écoutez
regardez dehors sur les étoiles, mon amour
tous en dedans et tous sans moi
remplacez la vision du plaisir
comme bougie blanche
affligez-vous pas pour l'invisible
elle doit retourner, elle a dit

 



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