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funeral poem

je me tiens par temps gris froid
bien que repine d'amour, et frottement de raison
soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
j'ai moulé le monde
y a il quiconque là
indéfiniment

 



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