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Article Communautés Concours Essai Multimédia Personnelles Poèmes Presse Prose _QUOTE Scénario Spécial | ||||||
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agonia ![]()
■ De la dissolution de la démocratie dans la ploutocratie ![]()
Romanian Spell-Checker ![]() Contact |
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| [Ce texte devrait être lu en english]
one day the wind will blow
how well I love I wonder whether I learned the smile do I understand what is natural or not how many sunsets did I miss, how many kisses did I have enough mornings barefoot with that bitter taste of blended gin and the morose or maybe shy sunlight on my eyelids how close was I to the edge and jumping the wind will blow and I want everything not tomorrow, not later love smoke that burns my lungs and the thin air on the loneliness rocks I want to be high to put fire on my coats to paste the blue jeans on my thighs the cleaving waters, as in mom's belly calmly loping leaves falling like two birds fighting steps of a child ardor sleepless nights amongst letters amongst sheets unstoppable pains that must be yelled the roulette spinning together with myself all these and more
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