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funny poem

il aurait même sa plaisanterie
à l'amoureux passionné
je sais pas où
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
son visage est juste et lisse et bon
j'étais une déesse avant que le marbre m'ait trouvé
le roulement triste du tambour insonorisé a le battement
l'obscurité
sous la feuille sombre de laurier

 



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