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black poetry

il y a bien longtemps, dans le jeune clair de lune
la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
hors de la mer de scintillement
les ombres des bateaux
dans l'obscurité et la paix de mon lit final
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
il est venu me prendre par la main

 



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