[Poetry] may make us from time to time a little aware of the deeper unnamed feelings which form the substratum of our being, to which we rarely penetrate; for our lives are mostly a constant evasion of ourselves.
T.S.Eliot
Thursday, May 17, 2018
The Pier
Another evening on the coast, another point-of-view of the same singularity along the monotonous, endless frontier between dry land and sea.
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