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mother daughter poem

une pensée gentiment solennelle
dernier minuit
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
souffleur de verre de temps
nous avons aucune honte?
effrayé pas plus, je dis
le plus triste de l'année
bonheur
dans l'obscurité et la paix de mon lit final
doucement maintenant la lumière du jour
tressé et tissé
comment j'aidez vers la droite le monde qui tourne mal

 



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