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romantic poem

la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
une brume entraînait une réduction
pour ces bras blancs au sujet de mon cou
puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort
je les ai entendus la nuit
qui aime la pluie
jamais dans toute ma vie
ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
nous avons aucune honte?
dans ma main je me tiens
pour venir tellement bientôt à ceci a imaginé l'obscurité

 



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