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lyric poem

mélancolie, bleu il était
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
comme je me trouve couvert dedans, examiné dedans
le pré rampait
une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
fleurs des bébés
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
le mouvement de votre corps est comme la musique

 



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