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death poem

laissez-nous pitié ceux outre dont soyez meilleur que nous sont
qui aime la pluie
par de la large le sein faisant mal terre
se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé
ce que je souhaite remarquer
tous ces trésors qui se trouvent
jamais dans toute ma vie
je vous attends
la lumière retirée
un, comme part d'un arbre

 



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