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type of poem

bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
n'accrochez aucune guirlande
si perdu
seule
ombres à ailes balayant près
l'odeur du s'est levée si faux, les épines si vraies
je suis las d'être amer et las d'être sage
dans des nombres mournful
tous ces trésors qui se trouvent
c'est la chanson de la jeunesse

 



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