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contemporary poetry

il est allé
pour ces bras blancs au sujet de mon cou
un ciel qui n'a jamais connu le soleil, la lune ou les étoiles
quand la nuit dérive le long des rues de la ville
je me demande oů vous vivez
homme froid sévčre
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc
y a il quiconque lŕ

 



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