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basically, i'm in love with pablo neruda.
Your Hands
When your hands go out, love, toward mine,
what do they bring me flying?
Why did they stop at my mouth, suddenly,
why do I recognize them
as if then, before, I had touched them,
as if before they existed
they had passed over my forehead, my waist?
Their softness came flying over time,
over the sea, over ( Read more... )
Your Hands
When your hands go out, love, toward mine,
what do they bring me flying?
Why did they stop at my mouth, suddenly,
why do I recognize them
as if then, before, I had touched them,
as if before they existed
they had passed over my forehead, my waist?
Their softness came flying over time,
over the sea, over ( Read more... )
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