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lyric poem

soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues
au-dessus du fleuve, sur la colline
un mille derrière
vous faites entendre
avec le coucher du soleil
tressé et tissé
dites-moi moins ou dites-moi davantage
j'aime mon heure de vent et de lumière
levé des morts

 



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