TE19 Iberian Adventure

Narda Azaria Dalgleish

Honing my gaze at the valley’s twilight

Honing my gaze at the valley’s twilight I’m prostrate by love’s single question: Who are you talking to when you’re talking? Even this ancient conifer’s boughs, pulled down to the ground pining to touch it, bend not by gravity’s force but the yield of its fruits, propagating man’s probe as if no human question was more important or more difficult than that.

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