“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.”
― Pablo Neruda"
in flowers she saw a restless conflict
i am astonished by my own lies, my acting, i am melting
590 + 8.
i abandon myself to the consuming cruelty of life
590 + 5.
it felt of your forceful act on the sensual being
When the sun gets hot and the moon gets hazy good girls go bad and it gets crazy. Peering out of my window onto the square like a bored desperate housewife. He once saw a girl with her arm in a cast … What if she recovered, moved to Miami and married an ageing film director, would he still be in love with her?
i did love him eternally once