Your breath
a timeless echo
beating steady
with my heart
and the fire
of the night.
I never knew
that you had
secrets too.

I'm feeling so sad today.
I don't know who I am.
And every word is strained.
My eyes heavy from the tears.

Sonnet II

Amor, cuántos caminos hasta llegar a un beso,
qué soledad errante hasta tu compañía!
Siguen los trenes solos rodando con la lluvia.
En Taltal no amanece aún la primavera.

Pero tú y yo, amor mío, estamos juntos,
juntos desde la ropa a las raíces,
juntos de otoño, de agua, de caderas,
hasta ser sólo tú, sólo yo juntos.

Pensar que costó tantas piedras que lleva el río,
la desembocadura del agua de Boroa,
pensar que separados por trenes y naciones

tú y yo teníamos que simplemente amarnos,
con todos confundidos, con hombres y mujeres,
con la tierra que implanta y educa los claveles.


Translation:

Love, how many roads to obtain a kiss,
what lonely wanderings before finding you!
Trains now trundle through the rain without me.
Spring has yet to come to Taltal.

But you and I, my love, are together,
together from our clothes to our bones,
together in Autumn, in our water, at our hips,
until it's just you together, me together.

To think it took all the stones borne by the river,
flowing out of the mouth of the river Boroa;
to think that, held apart by trains and nations

you and I had but to love each other,
with everyone mixed up, with men and women,
with the earth that nurtures the carnations.


- Pablo Neruda

(Quotes:

Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente.
I like it when you're silent because it's like you're not there.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
I can write the saddest verses tonight.

Algún día en cualquier parte, en cualquier lugar indefectiblemente te encontrarás a ti mismo, y ésa, sólo ésa, puede ser la más feliz o la más amarga de tus horas.
Someday, somewhere— anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.

En un beso, sabrás todo lo que he callado.
In one kiss, you'll know all I haven't said.)

What would you do for love?

Paris is burning.


It sounds like a love song.


Paris is burning, love.
We're all that's left,
of the Crusade.

This is a variation of my last post.


And as she flew away with the others, she said,
"Yours is a world not worth fighting for."

And all the stars
collapsed and
fell
to earth.

The light blinded me
until I could no longer see
her eyes, as the last
of their tears fell down to the heavens.

She tried to speak over the sound of the stars
slicing through the sky.

"Don't be afraid. You won't...,"
her voice trembled and softened,
"...you won't feel a thing."

She leaned down.
I could tell because she had now placed a hand
on my cheek and kissed my forehead,
warm tears pressed tight against me.
I fought for her life
but she pushed me away.

"It has to be this way."

The heat of her hand
on my cheek grew,
but, as she released it,
I knew the heat was from above.
I could hear the world
screaming,
tilting,
and screeching
eerily like a gigantic hull
as they cut through Tokyo, France and Brazil.

And I felt the warmth
and I could taste the molecules
of star dust that were really ashes
from the fires that they had started.

And I knew she would be leaving soon,
and that I would join the others.
Only her prescence kept me safe
from the chaos below.
But I knew that it had already started,
as I fell from her grip
and the heat became unbearable.

And I wondered where she would go now
that earth could no longer be her home.

She had said something about
the edge of the universe,
and I thought,
as the world vaporized,
maybe I would meet her there.