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free online love poem

mi plaisirs et palais bien que nous puissions errer
elle était une beauté en jours
si je meurs, pensez seulement ceci à moi
les jours hypocrites
je suis fevered
et avec l'oiseau de ronflement
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc
ma mère me tortille des roses humides avec la rosée
dans la terre silencieuse
ceux-ci soient
ne soyez pas faux

 



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