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sorry poem

course haut-soutenue
près d'un champ en détresse
hors de la fenêtre une mer des arbres verts
par le rivage, par la mer
de la chanson et du rêve pour jamais allé
j'ai jeté mon âme à l'air comme un vol de faucon
ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
elle connaît un dégagement bon marché
quand je suis retourné au coucher du soleil
leurs beaux cheveux

 



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