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prose poetry

et ils marchaient toujours dessus
nous qui se sont tenus
foncé-eyed
y a il quiconque là
stand ici par mon côté
écoutez
à certains les gros dieux
pourrions nous mais savoir
frère, je suis le feu
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
comme un homme nu je vont
comme je me trouve couvert dedans, examiné dedans
tranquillement, avec le reverance, dans la crainte

 



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