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birthday poetry

le pré rampait
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
mon âme disparaît plaquée dans des choses magnifiques
vous a fait entendent parler jamais
il parle pas bien
homme froid sévère
souvent je pense à la belle ville
la lumière retirée
vous êtes clair
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
dans pouvez

 



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