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gothic poetry

je suis une femme
souvent je pense à la belle ville
donnez-moi
la terre garde aller de vibration
comment sauvage, comment sorcière-comme étrange qui la vie devrait être
comme lui à qui esprit dans la flamme du midi
un oiseau a chanté
elle connaît un dégagement bon marché
il est venu me prendre par la main
ils dans le rassemblement d'obscurité et demandent
dans une vieille chambre s'est doucement allumé

 



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