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sad love poem

substance de la lune
je ne prie pas pour la paix
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé
ces coeurs ont été tissés des joies et des soins humains
ce compagnon étrange est venu sur brouiller des pieds
soyez patient, la vie, quand l'amour est à la porte
dans ma main je me tiens
je suis fevered
splendor doux
regarder là-bas


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