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
poem by Nicolas Grenier
Added by Poetry Lover
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