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erotic poem

dans toutes les choses non parlées de
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
allé avant nous
j'aime mon heure de vent et de lumière
si j'avais su l'étroit une prison est amour
se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé
du plancher au plafond
effrayé pas plus, je dis
il y a un pays complètement de vin

 



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