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sex poem

le long des banques
vous entendez la pluie?
ils peuvent parler de l'amour dans une petite maison
se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé
dans des nombres mournful
quand j'ai regardé dans vos yeux
contre la flamme verte de l'aubépine-arbre
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
je ne puis pas vous dire maintenant
regarder lŕ-bas

 



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