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short friendship poem

bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
là où je trouvez-vous
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
ne tournez pas votre tête
tristement parlant
musing, entre le coucher du soleil et l'obscurité
o juste et stately bonne, dont les yeux
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous

 



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