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pumpkin poem

en tant qu'elle
sous ma fenêtre dans une rue de ville
souvent je pense à la belle ville
vous êtes beau et fané
un regard est mais un rayon
bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
à ce qui une femme la comparera aimée
en ce moment
là où je trouvez-vous
il n'y a aucune bande, toutefois observé et tendu

 



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