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child poetry

dans sa tente gardée
hors de la mer de scintillement
allés sont les trois, ces soeurs rares
hors de moi indigne et inconnu
nous qui se sont tenus
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
ville qui n'est pas une ville
truely
en septembre
un avec vous
elle pourrait l'avoir su en ressort premier

 



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