you are not afraid of walking muddy, abandoned streets.
You do not collect any mud nor look back to weep
nor leave any footprints behind.
You embrace everything as they come and go
and are not carried away by the blizzard they bring along.
Then the moon, as white as a glass of milk,
as vibrant as a newborn
would come down from her cozy room
and say to you with the utmost grace and humility:
"Will you marry me please?"
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