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birthday poem

elle a éclaté le vin féroce
dans des nombres mournful
frère, je suis le feu
je me suis tenu prêt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
tous en dedans et tous sans moi
comme bougie blanche
ce qui je vous doivent
ce qui était lui les moteurs dits
indéfiniment
les cieux qu'ils étaient ashen et sobre

 



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