Love is…

Apparently, T.S. Eliot never married the ‘love of his life.’ Her name was Emily Hale. Yet he wrote this beautiful line about his second wife: ‘Lovers whose bodies smell of each other.’

I suppose that’s what love is – no longer knowing where you begin and end because you have now merged into a new space of being. Where does love begin and end? It doesn’t. Love is infinite; it defies boundaries and limits.

Published by monkeygrip80

My name is Claire. I'm a writer and teacher in my late thirties. In an attempt to scratch this writing itch (which apparently the only cure for is to actually write), I've started a blog (again...). Please let me know what you think!

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