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autumn poem

la musique i entendu avec vous était plus que la musique
un, comme part d'un arbre
dites-moi pas
bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
tous en baisse les années
doucement pleurant
au-dessus du fleuve, sur la colline
hors du profond et de l'obscurité
sous la barre du guerrier
babylon -- où je vais rêver
je remplis cette tasse
peu de porte a été atteinte enfin

 



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