Le cramoisi est le smolder lent de l'extrmit de cigare que je me tiens, le gris est la cendre qui raidit et couvre tout silencieux le feu. (le grand homme de A je connais est mort et tandis qu'il se situe dans son cercueil une flamme alle que je me repose ici dans les ombres et la fume cumbering et observe mes penses venir et disparatre.)
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