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sympathy poem

il était un jeune oysterman grand
la lune se levante a caché les étoiles
à partir des prés riches avec du maïs
seule
j'ai vu les nuages parmi les collines
j'aime mon heure de vent et de lumière
donnez-moi la faim
je ne brûle aucun encens
dans votre vol
un stylo d'acier
pour puis en dehors
c'est l'arsenal

 



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