...I am a poor man willing to love his fellow men.
I don't know who you are. I love you.
I don't give away thorns, and I don't sell them.
Maybe someone will know that I didn't weave crowns
to draw blood; that I fought against mockery;
that I did fill the high tide of my soul with the truth.
I repaid vileness with doves.
I have no never, because I was different-
was, am, will be.
LXXVIII Evening/Tarde
Pablo Neruda
".....We should be careful of each other, we should be kind, while there is still time." Philip Larkin
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- Sometimes
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- may my heart always be open to little birds
- The space for hypocrisy
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- Asymmetry
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- In spite of everything
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