Love is short, forgetting is so long...

At 32, I am just now discovering Pablo Neruda and these words.  Oh, how I could have weeped to these words during the angst of my teen years and the heartbreaks in my twenties...  They would have been the perfect side dish to a fleece blanket or a glass of wine.  But... without the cloud of selfish tears, in the (relative) stability of my 30s, I truly see their beauty.  Thanks, Pablo.


Love and Light,
Faye