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concrete poetry

j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
dans des vos bras était le plaisir immobile
ils ont jeté une pierre, vous ont jeté une pierre
je dédaigne mes amis davantage que vous
je sais ce que vous allez dire
le mystère le plus foncé et le plus étrange
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
il y a trois ans d'aujourd'hui
pour puis en dehors
indéfiniment

 



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