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suicide poetry

il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
j'ai moulé le monde
vous êtes clair
chère épouse
tous apaisent le long du potomac
voyez que je me donne vous
il y a bien longtemps, dans le jeune clair de lune
une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
homme froid sévère
dernier minuit

 



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