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wedding poetry

je suis fevered
juste en tant que mes doigts sur ces clefs
en ce moment
dites-moi
je me tiens par temps gris froid
à partir des prés riches avec du maïs
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
dans des vos bras était le plaisir immobile
dernier minuit
j'aime mon heure de vent et de lumière
cette année

 



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