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religious poem

je les ai entendus la nuit
un ciel qui n'a jamais connu le soleil, la lune ou les étoiles
qui appellera le vent
la terre garde aller de vibration
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
il y a trois ans d'aujourd'hui
elle boite avec stopper le pas douloureux
aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
là où je trouvez-vous
basculé dans le berceau du profond

 



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