On my birthday early this month, a friend asked me what my wish was. I never seriously thought about it because I stopped believing in my birthdays some time ago. But really thinking hard and reading through some of my stuff, I came across this poem:
W.B. Yeats: How many loved your moments of glad grace/and loved your beauty with love false or true/but one man loved the pilgrim soul in you/and loved the sorrows of your changing face.
Happy be-day fellow fishies.
Don’t ever trade magic for trickery.
Know that your heart will not steer you wrong.
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