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short poem

il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement
les étoiles sont tombées du ciel
très bien, vous libéraux
dans des nombres mournful
je suis fevered
tous en dedans et tous sans moi
fleur blanche de mousse, fleur rouge de flamme
n'accrochez aucune guirlande
donnez-moi la faim
passé persistant de thou
à ce qui une femme la comparera aimée

 



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