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sex poem

sous la lune de moisson
vous faites ne pas entendre
une pensée gentiment solennelle
bonne femme
un mot de vol d'ici et là
quand absence de sa taille de montagne
il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
je suis une femme
vieux vin à boire
qui appellera le vent
laissez-moi se déplacer lentement par la rue
elle était une beauté en jours
vous êtes beau et fané

 



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