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suicide poetry

un mot de vol d'ici et lĂ 
certains des maux que vous avez traités
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
je ne brûle aucun encens
voyez que je me donne vous
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
j'aime mon heure de vent et de lumière
le maître des destins humains suis moi

 



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