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family poem

j'ai vu la première poire
fleur blanche de mousse, fleur rouge de flamme
nuit mystérieuse
quand absence de sa taille de montagne
l'obscurité roule vers le haut
la dame, votre coeur s'est tournée vers la poussière
vous vous rappelez
short et doux, et nous sommes arrivés à la fin de lui
nous nous étendons
je meurs

 



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