The heart is the loneliest desert and cities lights, coursing veins in the cold air and such a soul lost in itself.... a city street dimly lights the person you are.... Weary of everlasting, sometimes aimless work, and then strengthened, healed, comforted when it stops being cold....

I am so exhausted today. Today was a long day and I am still recovering from a cold. But it made me think of the best things of my early life one of the finest was the poem my grandfather used to read to me. He told me a story, that every single woman I meet or would meet was perfect in the very fact that she was a woman and to love her as she was, to reinforce this philosophy he would tell me this poem in English: Naked you are as simple as one of your hands, smooth, terrestrial, minimum, round, transparent, you have lines of moon, apple ways, undressed you are thin as a bear stalk of wheat. Naked you are blue like the night in Cuba, you have vines and stars in your hair, Naked you are enormous and yellow like summer in a church of Gold. Naked you are small like one of your nails, curved, subtle, rosy until the day is born and you put on your subterranean clothes of the world like as if in a long tunnel of masks and work: by the end of the day your clarity is extinguished, gets dresse...