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short love poem

c'était l'automne de l'année
une pensée gentiment solennelle
ne tournez pas votre tête
le roulement triste du tambour insonorisé a le battement
roulez-moi vers le bas par le pré
gros mâles noirs dans une salle de vin-baril
par de la large le sein faisant mal terre
j'ai vu qu'un dieu vous doutent de lui?
puisque, si vous vous teniez prêt mon côté aujourd'hui

 



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