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erotic poem

je me suis tenu prĂŞt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
tout mon amour pour mon bonbon
short et doux, et nous sommes arrivés à la fin de lui
fleur blanche de mousse, fleur rouge de flamme
la noblesse de la mort encore
doux comme lit dans la terre
un regard est mais un rayon
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
nous avons aucune honte?
je dois dire bonne nuit

 



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