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best love poems

avec les yeux doux et bruns
je ne brûle aucun encens
c'était l'automne de l'année
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc
à certains les gros dieux
doucement pleurant
les cieux qu'ils étaient ashen et sobre
doucement maintenant la lumière du jour
une petite pêche dans le verger s'est développée
je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness

 



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