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suicide poem

ce compagnon étrange est venu sur brouiller des pieds
dans une vieille chambre s'est doucement allumé
observer toute la journée la vague bleue se courber et se casser
dites-moi moins ou dites-moi davantage
quand le vent fonctionne contre nous dans l'obscurité
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
hors du profond et de l'obscurité

 



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