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christian poem

à l'aube, il a dit
vous a fait entendent parler jamais
monde qui change sous ma main
ce qui nous fera maintenant
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
je sais pas où
j'étais une déesse avant que le marbre m'ait trouvé
dépassement par les murs blottis et laids
il y a une heure du repos paisible

 



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