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tristement parlant
je sais pas oĂą
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
Ă  minuit
voici ne tomber aucune lumière
j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée
cette année
hauts murs et énorme
le roulement triste du tambour insonorisé a le battement
si j'avais su l'étroit une prison est amour

 



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