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family poem

je me tiens par temps gris froid
remuez
il n'y a aucune bande, toutefois observé et tendu
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
l'aube était vert pomme
il y a bien longtemps, dans le jeune clair de lune
bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
j'ai vu les étoiles les plus fières
tous en dedans et tous sans moi
dans ma main je me tiens

 



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