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la lune se levante a caché les étoiles
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
en matins nuage-gris
c'est l'arsenal
pour venir tellement bientôt à ceci a imaginé l'obscurité
il n'y a aucune évasion par le fleuve
dans le port de New York
le jour est fait
ce compagnon étrange est venu sur brouiller des pieds

 



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