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african american poetry

comme bougie blanche
effrayé pas plus, je dis
se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
j'ai entendu le vent toute la journée
quand vous venez ce soir
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
dans une vieille chambre s'est doucement allumé
vous vous rappelez

 



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