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daughter poem

dernier minuit
je vous attends
au-dessus d'elles toutes, regardant vers le bas
sous un arbre de propagation de châtaigne
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
comme un homme nu je vont
soudainement, hors des maničres foncées et feuillues
j'ai jeté mon âme ŕ l'air comme un vol de faucon

 



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