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math poem

et avec l'oiseau de ronflement
en matins nuage-gris
bonheur
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
pourquoi puis, la nécessité nous voient?
le plus triste de l'année
pour moi étais un conseiller décharné et grave
un mille derrière
je les ai entendus la nuit
le long d'une rive
avec le rouge de sang de lèvres et le coeur de la pierre

 



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