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free love poem

elle doit retourner, elle a dit
frère, je suis le feu
glooms des vivre-chênes
très bien, vous libéraux
un regard est mais un rayon
en matins nuage-gris
j'ai vu la première poire
ceux-ci soient
si je meurs, pensez seulement ceci à moi
à l'aube, il a dit
je suis vieux et aveugle
il n'y a aucune évasion par le fleuve

 



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