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Article Communautés Concours Essai Multimédia Personnelles Poèmes Presse Prose _QUOTE Scénario Spécial | ||||||
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agonia ![]()
■ Petite valse gitane ![]()
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2016-01-13 | [Ce texte devrait être lu en english] |
My nights spray over the forests.
I waste myself between one love and another. The horizon approaches and closes me within the coming woman’s wishes. She always greets and waits for me. Days are talking on warm tones, how summer rains pass over the plain at rest. The words are getting more unruly, they discover the fountain inside you, how we devise moments the time to come. By the time I’ll be able to forget and find myself on an edge where doors open, the road is crawling like a snake to a city where it’s late for the passers to tell you the truth.
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