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erotic poem

j'aime ma vie, mais pas trop bien
basculé dans le berceau du profond
il y a mille années silencieuses
ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
levé des morts
si j'étais très sûr
elle a éclaté le vin féroce
éliminer, luttant vainly
soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues
exister de cygne

 



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