Albert Einstein argued that culture is what remains after one has forgotten everything he learned at school. Paraphrasing arbitrarily I thought that love, if any, is what remains after ". After the thrill desire dream anger resentment fatigue habit indifference silence nostalgia. Apparently it is a negligible amount, but focused and authentic, like the foam of superb coffee that barely fills the bottom of the cups in the south. Black nectar of fragrant "'na tazzulella' and cafes."
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