Woe of the Treacherous

Look, there is no light. Nor hear we any noise. Silence prevails. The moon just now from the horizon rose E'en while you spoke to me; her trembling light And thy dear voice together reached my heart. Joyous and softly calm I felt, oh, thou My lover! And it seemed that I would then Most willingly have died.

“It all matters. That someone turns out the lamp, picks up the windblown wrapper, says hello to the invalid, pays at the unattended lot, listens to the repeated tale, folds the abandoned laundry, plays the game fairly, tells the story honestly, acknowledges help, gives credit, says good night, resists temptation, wipes the counter, waits at the yellow, makes the bed, tips the maid, remembers the illness, congratulates the victor, accepts the consequences, takes a stand, steps up, offers a hand, goes first, goes last, chooses the small portion, teaches the child, tends to the dying, comforts the grieving, removes the splinter, wipes the tear, directs the lost, touches the lonely, is the whole thing. What is most beautiful is least acknowledged. What is worth dying for is barely noticed.”

Cocorrina

“Your slim gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days.”

Watching movies with platonic friends: draped over each other, occasional affectionate forhead kisses, hand-holding, sniping popcorn from each other, boisterous and over-comfortable