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romantic poetry

je me suis tenu
je verrai une étoile ce soir
behold je, en mon chiffon, gaze et tresse
ŕ certains les gros dieux
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
donc je ne puis pas
désolé et seul
ce qui je vous doivent
j'étais une déesse avant que le marbre m'ait trouvé
peut-ętre ce n'est aucune matičre que vous ętes morte

 



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