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mother daughter poem

pourrions nous mais savoir
hauts murs et énorme
démontré dans la lueur vacillante dans vos yeux
dans toutes les choses non parlées de
dites-moi
orage
vous faites ne pas entendre
roulez-moi vers le bas par le pré
la lumière retirée
sous ma fenêtre dans une rue de ville
maintenant tandis que mes lèvres vivent
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc

 



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