Me lancer sous la mer. M'emballer vers le bas dans le sel et le mouiller. La charrue d'aucun fermier touchera mes os. Aucune prise de hameau mes mchoires et ne parlent comment les plaisanteries sont alles et vide est ma bouche. Les longs, aux yeux verts extracteurs slectionneront mes yeux, cache-cache pourpre de jeu de poissons, et je serai chanson du tonnerre, accident de mer, vers le bas sur les planchers du sel et mouillerai. Me lancer... sous la mer.
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