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short poem

j'ai vu la première poire
maintenant tandis que mes lèvres vivent
je suis une femme
beau
regarder là-bas
je remplis cette tasse
les jours endeared à chaque MUSE
a arqué l'inondation
comme lui à qui esprit dans la flamme du midi
je vous attends
une fois ce gazon mou
mélancolie, bleu il était
sous la feuille sombre de laurier
l'obscurité

 



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