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February 2014: Aurore Dal Mas

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You remind me of my father, you always remind me that you are going to die and that he is gone forever.

Tonight, I eat alone at the restaurant you recommended, and I can very much see you here.

In no hurry, I walk up rue St-Jacques, hazy with the memory of our knowing intimacy, secret, lost.

I lie down without a smile. The red room goes black

Hôtel du Panthéon

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