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love poetry

très bien, vous libéraux
laissez-moi être triste
et mon nom est véridique
tressé et tissé
s'est levé et l'ambre était le coucher du soleil sur le fleuve
je les ai entendus la nuit
les ombres des bateaux
vous dites que vous m'aimez
ville qui n'est pas une ville

 



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