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family poem

vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
ils me demandent où j'ai été
peu de parc que je traverse
je me tiens par temps gris froid
son visage est juste et lisse et bon
il y a mille années silencieuses
comme un homme nu je vont
allé avant nous
roulez-moi vers le bas par le pré
laissez le bel unsaid de mots
ombres étendues le long de broadway

 



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