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def poetry jam

le ciel
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
comme je me trouve couvert dedans, examiné dedans
le plus triste de l'année
je me suis tenu
substance de la lune
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
j'ai vu qu'un dieu vous doutent de lui?
je dois dire bonne nuit
avec les yeux doux et bruns
les petites prières blanches
remuez
glooms des vivre-chĂŞnes

 



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