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When the masculine turns against the feminine, it loses its depth. It loses its capacity to nurture. What remains can harden into toughness, into ridicule, into shame—until it remembers something simpler: it is only human. It is only a man, and it needs warmth, just as the sun needs the moon.

Like a coin of silver, it has two faces, yet belongs to one whole. Two expressions, held by a single heart.