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Added at 6:21pm — 3 notes
Here I came to the very edge, where nothing at all needs saying, everything is absorbed through weather and the sea and the moon swam back, its rays all silvered, and time and again the darkness would be broken by the crash of a wave, and every day on the balcony of the sea, wings open, fire is born, and everything is blue again like morning.
— Pablo Neruda (via misplacedblues)
