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gothic poetry

nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
tressé et tissé
il y a un pays complètement de vin
j'ai dit, j'ai fermé mon coeur
et ainsi elle va
au-dessus des dessus de toit emballez les ombres des nuages
la foudre a clignoté, et s'est soulevée
dans la terre silencieuse
un avec vous
il y a une heure du repos paisible
volonté vous miroitez sur la mer?

 



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