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romantic poem

elle a dit
laissez-moi se déplacer lentement par la rue
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
je ne brûle aucun encens
près d'un champ en détresse
quand j'ai regardé dans vos yeux
leurs beaux cheveux
short et doux, et nous sommes arrivés à la fin de lui
sous la barre du guerrier

 



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