Love, in oneself, takes a very large place. But then does it remain for the other, in herself too, when her image has filled the space so much? My love I have built us a floor, a vast place for us, in Whole. To live our love without stepping on our images, without being confused with them, I take you to the third floor.
No holder for the lease. Everyone brings what they want. The view is magnificent, more unobstructed than below. When the screams are too loud below or the mood is chagrine, I beg you: let’s make the effort to get out of the in-self, let’s climb to the third floor. Let’s taste its light air, the transparency of its windows, the simplicity of two hands touching each other. Let us savor the sincerely shared love of the third accomplice.
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