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poetry in motion

je me tiens par temps gris froid
ville qui n'est pas une ville
doucement pleurant
un avec vous
l'aube était vert pomme
vous faites entendre
j'ai gagné la course
quand j'étais un garçon à l'université
travails de la terre
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
short et doux, et nous sommes arrivés à la fin de lui
bonheur

 



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