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love poem quote

quatre-vingts ans ont passé, et plus
dernier minuit
soyez dans moi comme modes éternels
je sais pas où
ma mère me tortille des roses humides avec la rosée
apportez-moi la chanson douce
monde qui change sous ma main
s'est levé et l'ambre était le coucher du soleil sur le fleuve
je vais ma manière complacently

 



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