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“This salt mist blots out everything that comforts and speaks to the traveler: roads, bridges, towns, trees. There's no face I might see and know, only the mist whose insistent hand runs over our faces and flanks.” — Gabriela Mistral
This salt mist blots out everything
that comforts and speaks to the traveler:
roads, bridges, towns, trees.
There's no face I might see and know,
only the mist whose insistent hand
runs over our faces and flanks.