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lost love poem

je descends les chemins de jardin
du plancher au plafond
puisque, si vous vous teniez pręt mon côté aujourd'hui
elle a dit
levé des morts
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
course haut-soutenue
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien

 



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