Sonnet 11 by Pablo Neruda
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.
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.
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,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
Valentine’s Week Challenge: Seven Poems for Seven Days of Valentine.
Day Four: This sonnet by Pablo Neruda is simply one of my favourites. It’s so passionate and consuming, kind of like that phase of a relationship where you’re just obsessed with each other. (A bit creepy and cannibalistic, yes. But it is a momentary thing, no?)