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sad death poem

la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
juste en tant que mes doigts sur ces clefs
qui est le coureur dans les cieux
je l'ai vu une fois avant
la étoile-poussière et lumière vaporeuse
un dieu
vous avez marche vue par le village
il n'y a aucune bande, toutefois observé et tendu
n'accrochez aucune guirlande

 



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