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concrete poetry

un regard est mais un rayon
dans l'obscurité et la paix de mon lit final
quand le vent fonctionne contre nous dans l'obscurité
pour ces bras blancs au sujet de mon cou
je la pense splendide juste
ŕ minuit
vous dites que vous m'aimez
souffleur de verre de temps
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant

 



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