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spanish poem

l'aube était vert pomme
la fille, art de thou viennent pour mourir
un mille derrière
désolé et seul
l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
de nos endroits cachés
j'ai dit, j'ai fermé mon coeur
j'aime les vieilles configurations melodious
le corps peut confiner
une petite pêche dans le verger s'est développée

 



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