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poem for dad

orage
dans la terre silencieuse
sous la lune de moisson
pour puis en dehors
puisque, si vous vous teniez pręt mon côté aujourd'hui
qui est le coureur dans les cieux
bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
souffleur de verre de temps
ville qui n'est pas une ville
foncé-eyed
hors de la fenętre une mer des arbres verts

 



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