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prose poetry

ils ont jeté une pierre, vous ont jeté une pierre
du plancher au plafond
il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
avec le rouge de sang de lèvres et le coeur de la pierre
qui appellera le vent
short et doux, et nous sommes arrivés à la fin de lui
une brume entraînait une réduction
pour moi étais un conseiller décharné et grave

 



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