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poem for dad

du plancher au plafond
écoutez
puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort
ville qui n'est pas une ville
avec le rouge de sang de lèvres et le coeur de la pierre
je suis le vent qui hésite
fleur blanche de mousse, fleur rouge de flamme
la lumière retirée
mélancolie, bleu il était
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
la terre garde aller de vibration

 



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