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teacher poem

démontré dans la lueur vacillante dans vos yeux
bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
au-dessus du fleuve ils montrent à moi
sommeil, frère gris de la mort
ont eu lui et I mais réuni
je me suis tenu prêt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
mais alas, rêves justes
j'ai dit

 



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