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My husband lays next to me, whispering, ‘I’d give all we have to make sure we are always connected: you and I, and us and them.’ I find his hand in the dark and do not let it go.
This earthly Victory | does not have wings: | she wears bread on her shoulders instead. | Courageously she soars, | setting the world free, | like a baker | born aloft on the wind. – Pablo Neruda
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