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Pain. It’s all a matter of perception. Here in France, “pain” is bread (pronounced “pan” and make sure the word comes from the very back of your throat). Bread here is good. Very good. It’s the mind that assigns qualities … Continue reading
When you came, you were like red wine and honey, And the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness. Now you are like morning bread, Smooth and pleasant, I hardly taste you at all, for I know your … Continue reading