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math poem

une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
ceux sur le supérieur indiquent qu'elles vous connaissent, la terre -- elles sont des menteurs
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
la musique i entendu avec vous était plus que la musique
tressé et tissé
si j'étais très sûr

 



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