My world is not like the world of other people, I want much more, I demand much more, there is inside me a thirst for the infinite, a constant anxiety that I do not even understand, because I am far from being a pessimist; first I am an exalted one, with an intense soul, violent, tormented, a soul that does not feel well where it is, that misses… I do not know what!
Florbela Espanca (Correspondence, 1930)
Monday’s poetry came late to me this week
Stories from A Closet of Errors 