pound-vision-vi

January 21, 2025

Calais, in song where word and tone keep tryst
Behold my heart, and hear mine hardihood!
Calais, the wind is come and heaven pales
And trembles for the love of day to be.
Calais, the words break and the dawn is shown.

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Thought:

“I’m exhausted, finally, by this mob within me that keeps me from being myself. I suppose one feels the need to be alone in order to grow old and die.”

Claude Mauriac

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