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teen poems

doux comme lit dans la terre
hauts murs et énorme
roulez-moi vers le bas par le pré
je vous ai détesté
au-dessus des dessus de toit emballez les ombres des nuages
peu de parc que je traverse
je ne puis pas vous dire maintenant
ne restez pas plus
j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée

 



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