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love poetry chat

cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
simplement parlant
ne soyez pas fâché avec moi
comme lui à qui esprit dans la flamme du midi
l'enfant qui a jeté la feuille après feuille
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
a arqué l'inondation
vers l'arrière, tournez vers l'arrière

 



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