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thanksgiving poem

dans des vos bras était le plaisir immobile
désolé et seul
se déclenchant vers le haut, tombant vers le bas
il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement
voici ne tomber aucune lumière
je l'aime
un dieu
quand le vent fonctionne contre nous dans l'obscurité
quand je vais de nouveau à la terre

 



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