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autumn poem

je suis le vent qui hésite
le ciel
le soleil et vent et battement de mer
puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort
quand le voile des yeux est soulevé
j'ai fait un voeu par le passé, un seulement
pourquoi
bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
ainsi tombé
il y a mille années silencieuses
la étoile-poussière et lumière vaporeuse

 



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