neruda

"i love you as the plant that never blooms,
but carries with it the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love, a certain solid fragrance,
rises from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

i love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
i love you simply, without problems or pride:
i love you in this way
because i don't know any other way of loving…
…so that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
when i fall asleep
it is your eyes that close."