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thanksgiving poetry

ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
splendide et terrible votre amour
se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé
quelques jours plus venteux
fleurs des bébés
jusqu'à sa fenêtre de chambre
dans ma main je me tiens
au-dessus du fleuve ils montrent à moi
il y avait un strangeness sur vos lèvres

 



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