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sister poem

mi plaisirs et palais bien que nous puissions errer
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc
souvent je pense Ă  la belle ville
passé persistant de thou
les petites prières blanches
la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
ombres étendues le long de broadway
une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé

 



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