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parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
hors de moi indigne et inconnu
si j'avais su l'étroit une prison est amour
chère épouse
j'étais une déesse avant que le marbre m'ait trouvé
nos moments plaisants volent
hors du profond et de l'obscurité
si je meurs, pensez seulement ceci à moi
ne soyez pas faux
le ciel

 



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