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funny poem

y a il quiconque là
la neige chuchote au sujet de moi
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
polit le dernier âge, le prochain avec espoir est vu
dans des vos bras était le plaisir immobile
si j'avais su l'étroit une prison est amour
je suis le vent qui hésite

 



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