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child poem

stand ici par mon côté
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée
clair de lune profond et tendre
quand les heures du jour sont numérotées
elle doit retourner, elle a dit
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
le soleil et vent et battement de mer
simplicité

 



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