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christmas poem

à partir du sud à la coupure du jour
prenez mes bracelets
quand les heures du jour sont numérotées
un oiseau a chanté
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
je verrai une étoile ce soir
voyez, de cette contrefaçon de lui
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé

 



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