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free love poem

j'ai vu la première poire
laissez-moi être triste
comme lui à qui esprit dans la flamme du midi
peut-être ce n'est aucune matière que vous êtes morte
ville qui n'est pas une ville
vécu à côté de la rive
à certains les gros dieux
le poing serré simple soulevé et préparent

 



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