I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
~Pablo Neruda
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
~Pablo Neruda
1 comment:
What can be said about what cannot be said...that Neruda could say it?
Trust and sincerity can be painful, but it will last a lifetime. Craving and Loving is it the same? I think not. Some may say they Crave for you, but do they really Love ?
But the few poems that I read there is something unspeakably sacred in his words.
I cant point my fingers at it...it sweeps me when i come face to face with his poems.
It makes me feel like there is music and drama and poetry in living, that makes it hard to feel indifferent, numb.
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