WITHOUT AGE
We approach
In the forests
Take the street of the morning
Assemble the steps of the fog
We approach
The ground has the contracted heart of it
Still a day to be put at the world.
The sky will widen
We had enough of it
To live in the ruins of the sleep
In the low shade of the rest
Tiredness of the abandonment
by: Paul Eluard
7:49 PM
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