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grandma poem

pensées par ma tête
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
musing, entre le coucher du soleil et l'obscurité
êtes vous éveillé?
elle a dit
la noblesse de la mort encore
les ombres des bateaux
j'au-dessus-avais préparé l'événement
peut-être ce n'est aucune matière que vous êtes morte

 



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