coming home to packing, laundry, and chaos
dinner at Gypsy Den, my treat
Sonnet XVII
Neruda
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
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 don't 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 it is your eyes that close.
2 comments:
i love that pablo neruda. i used to always say it to brian- it is so truthful even when things change no? i miss you terribly
this is beautiful.
i love all the poetry on your page. I feel so badly for you. Call if you need anything.
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