L'amour est aveugle; l'amitiť ferme les yeux.
(Love is blind; friendship closes its eyes)
"Friendship is the oddest form of truth
you'll ever meet while blindfolded and handcuffed
to a rocking horse or rocking chair:
the first joy of playing children
and last refuge of the old,
but a fate most and least satisfying
for a man in the prime of his life.
Friendship is the strangest whispered word
you'll ever hear from lips you kissed just
yesterday if only in your dreams:
a trove of hidden treasure
gold but not gleaming,
pleasing to the eyes and ears
but fleeting to the touch.
Friendship is the longest game of chess
you'll ever play while wandering naked and guideless
in a desert of love or lust:
And yet, sometimes all else seems but selfishness:
a guilty game for two to play,
with the world staring through microscopes,
or pretending to look away..."
Then Neruda was silent.
And Plato replied,
"Friendship is the purest form of truth."
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