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suicide poem

j'étais une déesse avant que le marbre m'ait trouvé
pensées par ma tête
la fille, art de thou viennent pour mourir
dans la terre silencieuse
bonne femme
le soleil a fait un pas vers le bas de son trône d'or
sous la feuille sombre de laurier
démontré dans la lueur vacillante dans vos yeux
hors de la fenêtre une mer des arbres verts
soyez dans moi comme modes éternels

 



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