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footprint poem

les cieux qu'ils étaient ashen et sobre
je vous ai détesté
ont eu lui et I mais réuni
vieux vin à boire
beaux, tragical visages
le soleil et vent et battement de mer
sous un arbre de propagation de châtaigne
certains des maux que vous avez traités
doucement pleurant
je ne brûle aucun encens
une vie sur la vague d'océan

 



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