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sex poem

la noblesse de la mort encore
musing, entre le coucher du soleil et l'obscurité
les jours mélancoliques sont venus
seule
avec les yeux doux et bruns
gaily par les champs nous avons dansé
je descends les chemins de jardin
ce qui était lui les moteurs dits
souvent je pense à la belle ville

 



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