Love After Love
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
América es un continente, no un país.
Americanos somos todos, aunque no vivamos en Estados Unidos.
— Jorge Luis Borges (via icancauseaconstellation)
“The 60’s are gone, dope will never be as cheap, sex never as free, and the rock and roll never as great.” - Abbie Hoffman
« People fear death even more than pain. It’s strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over. I guess it is a friend…»- Jim Morrison
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