The part I like most is the part I dislike.
Not because they reflect and give each other substance, but because they are each other: facing fears with courage, presenting a narrative when no one cares, making it up to them afterward, just forgetting it after remembering for a long while.
“Dein Herz kennt keine Mauer.”
Around this time last year, I was watching a bike light peer through the dusk, wheeling down a dirt path saturated with that evening’s blue-gold color scheme. Sunbeams — all spectral and river-bent and free-falling ultraviolet — plunged into the Landwehrkanal.
My cloud eyes closed for a blink.
Opening again, they revealed a refracted version of what was previously there: a lawn, a path, a canal that flowed like a continuum and ended on the same one.
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