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une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
je vois tous les esprits humains
j'aime les vieilles configurations melodious
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
nous qui se sont tenus
levé des morts
quand la nuit dérive le long des rues de la ville
dans le port de New York
bonheur
il y avait un strangeness sur vos lèvres

 



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