Poetry

I love you without knowing how, or when or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.

~ Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

A Facebook friend posted this earlier this morning. Even amidst the noise of Facebook, there are gems of such incredible beauty.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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