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brother poem

avec ses cheveux flaying d'une manière extravagante
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
et pain de breaketh pas plus
les bateaux se situent dans le compartiment
l'odeur du s'est levée si faux, les épines si vraies
le soleil et vent et battement de mer
tristement parlant
j'ai su le silence des étoiles et de la mer
je suis le vent qui hésite
mélancolie, bleu il était

 



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