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epic poetry

la lune se levante a caché les étoiles
juste en tant que mes doigts sur ces clefs
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
vous avez marche vue par le village
je ne brûle aucun encens
sommeil, frère gris de la mort
se déclenchant vers le haut, tombant vers le bas
le long d'une rive
j'ai vu les étoiles les plus fières
je meurs
il était un jeune oysterman grand
je réside à la montagne de table
avec ses cheveux flaying d'une manière extravagante

 



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