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teacher poem

j'ai jeté mon âme à l'air comme un vol de faucon
là où je trouvez-vous
se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
passé persistant de thou
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
musing, entre le coucher du soleil et l'obscurité

 



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