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writing poetry

monde qui change sous ma main
il y avait un temps en anciennes années
elle a éclaté le vin féroce
les ombres des bateaux
comme un homme nu je vont
hors de la mer de scintillement
j'ai dit
vous faites entendre
course haut-soutenue
dans les halls du sommeil vous avez erré près
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer

 



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