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teen poem

je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness
hors du profond et de l'obscurité
étaient elle pas pour cette odeur singulière
les nuances de la nuit tombaient rapidement
tous apaisent le long du potomac
écoutez la mer retentissante
ma mère me tortille des roses humides avec la rosée
la fille, art de thou viennent pour mourir
j'ai moulé le monde
qui appellera le vent

 



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