.Des arbres se penchent, c'est plus fort, plus fort que tout.
Accrochée aux branches, l'air me semble encore trop doux.
Dans l'herbe écrasée, à compter mes regrets.
Allumette craquée et tout part en fumée.
Pendant que les champs brûlent
J'attends que mes larmes viennent
E.
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