.A fleur de pollen, je butine avec Isabeille
Son haleine est pareille à du nectar plus ultra
Au coeur de la corolle, agités par Ãole.
Nous avons le vertige au bout de la verte tige
Le corollaire est clair: il s'en suit que j'en suis sensuellement
Sur elle, je suis en sursi.
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