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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-09-26 | [This text should be read in francais] |
Pourquoi dormir ?
Clair de mer sur chant de veille, nuit blanche, rose du jazz de tes yeux. Tant de lumière sur ma peau tienne. Picore grand albatros la main de goémon que soulève la houle. Au vent, au ventre, un front de mer ondule, s’amoncelle. Frôle vague, frise vague, folle vague, vague, vague... brise vague, brise! Marée oh! marée lèche ma plage vive.
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