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lost love poem

serene d'après-midi et lumineux verts
juste en tant que mes doigts sur ces clefs
qui aime la pluie
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
je l'aime
une petite pêche dans le verger s'est développée
levé des morts
avec ses cheveux flaying d'une manière extravagante
indéfiniment
vous a fait voient jamais un alligator
ne restez pas plus

 



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