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best love poem

nous nous étendons
un dieu
je ne brûle aucun encens
exister de cygne
je dédaigne mes amis davantage que vous
je me tiens par temps gris froid
dans sa tente gardée
roulez-moi vers le bas par le pré
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
doucement maintenant la lumière du jour

 



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