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brother poem

je réside à la montagne de table
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
l'amour a été chanté mille manières
j'aime mon heure de vent et de lumière
dans le port de New York
les vérités terribles ceux-ci soient
les petites prières blanches
la foudre a clignoté, et s'est soulevée

 



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