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thanksgiving poem

êtes vous vivant?
je les ai offerts tout l'adieu
s'est levé et l'ambre était le coucher du soleil sur le fleuve
donc je ne puis pas
exprimons nos passions plus basses
je vous attends
son visage est juste et lisse et bon
dans votre vol
la étoile-poussière et lumière vaporeuse
jamais dans toute ma vie
les petites prières blanches

 



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