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sex poem

nous avons aucune honte?
vous faites entendre
oranges de plumaison nubian bleu-noires
comme lui à qui esprit dans la flamme du midi
beau
je dois dire bonne nuit
je suis le vent qui hésite
souffleur de verre de temps
quelle chance spiteful vole des unawares
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
j'ai dit
ainsi tombé

 



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