Julia.

¡qué blanca lleva la falda
la niña que se va al mar!

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¡ay niña, no te la manche
la tinta del calamar!

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¡qué blancas tus manos, niña,
que te vas sin suspirar!

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¡ay niña, no te las manche
la tinta del calamar!

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¡qué blanco tu corazón
y qué blanco tu mirar!

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¡ay niña, no te los manche
la tinta del calamar!

"I sing to use the waiting,
My bonnet but to tie,
And shut the door unto my house;
No more to do have I,
Till, his best step approaching,
We journey to the day,
And tell each other how we sang
To keep the dark away."

✒ A poem about forgiving yourself.
A poem about finding how to love yourself. Unconditionally.

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"The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

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and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

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all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

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the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life".

"The sun drops luridly into the west;
darkness has raised her arms to draw him down
before the time, not waiting as of wont
till he has come to her behind the sea;
and the smooth waves grow sullen in the gloom
and wear their threatening purple; more and more
the plain of waters sways and seems to rise
convexly from its level of the shores;
and low dull thunder rolls along the beach:
there will be storm at last, storm, glorious storm."