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concrete poetry

le soleil est vers le haut
truely
je meurs
elle était beaucoup et beaucoup d'il y a une année
stand ici par mon côté
hors de la mer de scintillement
je fais ma monture, mais personne ne sait
dans des vos bras était le plaisir immobile
ma mère me tortille des roses humides avec la rosée
monde qui change sous ma main

 



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