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Bank Of The Seine In The Northwestern Suburbs Of An Imaginary City

On the edge of a hill
You get a smile of an angel

Under a oak
Your wicker basket
A green canteen for sparkling water

You ride a paper pony
My cute panda of Cythera
And I can not forget the sword of truth

Liquid
Open-mid
Alphabet day
Nasal labio-velar

On the way home
I hear Aphrodite's voice through your tears

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