Dear Ste. Odile,Do you not see the point?I chose you quite by chanceMy sheer sisterFrom among all the othersTo be the gnomonWhose measured shadow fallsOn all my delicate sorrowsI was thinking onlyOf the sharp beautyThat you sew into the skyWhy did you draw meAn arbitrary pilgrim?For I lost myselfIn . . . . Continue Reading »
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