I want to make love to you now, not just once, but as often as we can.
Let the silence come.
Let it come and wrap around me like a blanket.
Let my head be clear,
my ears be numb,
let it be quiet for a while.
Come lay down next to me.
There’s not a thing you need to say,
there are no words I need to hear.
Just lay with me,
press you lips against my ear,
I am weary of this noise
and of the way the world thinks it needs it.
Chatter, jabber, tv,
radio blasted in my car.
Promises, questions, ultimatums.
Everyday I try to answer
and the words get stuck
because my spirit wants to be still.
So come, my love,
and lay your head upon my chest.
Feel the rise and fall of my body,
the language of my heart,
and know that something in my body speaks to you,
with every beat,
even if my lips never find the words.
I love every word of this poem. Can anyone tell me who wrote this?
DAY 7: FOUR of your favorite books.
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
‘XVII’, by Pablo Neruda, which has been given the the title ‘I do not love you’. It is taken from Cien Sonetos de Amor which means: 100 Love Sonnets.
via ScarletFlower on fetlife.