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j'aime voler pendant quelque temps loin
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
vous êtes clair
je remplis cette tasse
soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues
la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
j'ai vu que vous hunched et tremblant sur les pierres
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
fleur blanche de mousse, fleur rouge de flamme

 



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