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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2011-02-09 | [This text should be read in francais] |
Je m'allume, je me fume, je me perds dans l’idée de l’avenir,
Comme un nuage blanc de vieux souvenirs Sur le ciel noir... Ce matin j'ai été une maison de pluie Et maintenant je suis un murmure dans la nuit... Demain? On va voir... Julia Kretsch 9 février 2011 Bucarest
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