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poem for pastors

ma douleur, quand elle est ici avec moi
ce que je souhaite remarquer
comment sauvage, comment sorcière-comme étrange qui la vie devrait être
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
ce qui je vous doivent
bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement
exprimons nos passions plus basses

 



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