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sister poem

la noblesse de la mort encore
sous ma fenêtre dans une rue de ville
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
basculé dans le berceau du profond
ce que je souhaite remarquer
je meurs
stand ici par mon côté
fleurs des bébés
le parfum est venu
et ainsi elle va
comment j'aidez vers la droite le monde qui tourne mal
voyez que je me donne vous
la neige chuchote au sujet de moi

 



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