.C'est un volet qui bat, c'est une déchirure, légère,
Sur le drap où, naguère, tu as posé ton bras,
Cependant qu'en bas la rue parle toute seule,
Quelqu'un vend des mandarines,
Une dame bleu-marine promène sa fillette.
L'absence, la voilà .
L'absence d'un en.
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