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autumn poem

près d'un champ en détresse
il y avait un strangeness sur vos lèvres
l'enfant qui a jeté la feuille après feuille
ne soyez pas faux
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
je sais pas où
se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé
comme égaliser tombe
laissez-moi être triste
ce qui nous fera maintenant

 



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