Pablo After Dark.

The start of a new week is equals parts promising and anxiety-inducing. I'm laying in bed after having read Neruda all evening whilst drowning in chamomile and honey + zinc in hopes to stop this cold in its track and my neighbors across the street are ending their get-together with loud Vietnamese tongues. Anyway, here's an excerpt from "Every Day You Play" from Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair. It just resonates so much that I felt I must include it here. 

The part I've marked with the tiny heart. It could not be said more accurately or beautifully.