The days get longer and the distance, too. The separation more complete, as Saskia once said about my poetry. There was never any pain, but the desire now less acute. I say these things objectively, from far away, but don't know what will happen later. I say these things after more than two weeks, more than two miles, more than two thoughts.
You know that feeling on a train, that feeling of movement only and not actual movement? That is the trajectory of my mind, I think.
Morte al pacifista. (Italian graffiti, Firenze)
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