That's it.
The mirror doesn't crack and the strip remains uncertain under the call of the eagle.
Flageolets of love don't flow anymore in the reflex of iced profiles, lifeless. Invisible.
I miss the poetry but, slowly, I taste in the fingertips my trickle of peace.
![](http://sphotos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc7/s720x720/420836_3235783297234_1346258939_3225383_1966715327_n.jpg)
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