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grandmother poem

les chansons antiques
à minuit
je suis las d'être amer et las d'être sage
j'ai jeté mon âme à l'air comme un vol de faucon
il était un jeune oysterman grand
beau
enveloppez la terre par temps nuageux
la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement
je suis fevered
au-dessus d'elles toutes, regardant vers le bas
il y a une heure du repos paisible

 



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