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sad poem

j'ai vu avec les yeux ouverts
est souvent il pas aussi?
effrayé pas plus, je dis
aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
la étoile-poussière et lumière vaporeuse
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort

 



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