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sex poem

vous faites ne pas entendre
mais alas, rêves justes
comme je me trouve couvert dedans, examiné dedans
le soleil a fait un pas vers le bas de son trône d'or
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
cette année
contre la flamme verte de l'aubépine-arbre
ainsi tombé
j'ai dit
il n'y a aucune évasion par le fleuve
c'est l'arsenal

 



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