To Ryan, With Love

>> 12.28.2009

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.

Pablo Neruda


Lindsey December 28, 2009 at 2:14 PM  

You stop it with that mushy stuff.....geez....
PS: You have to let me know how "Her Fearful Symmetry" is. I want to read it too!

Julia December 28, 2009 at 2:42 PM  

You two are beautiful!

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