I met him in a small bar
Tipsy and lightheaded
I looked at him
And experienced a moment of clarity
He sat there alone
We talked and later on
We slowly bonded
He reciting Shakespeare
I Pablo Neruda
I looked at him again
And saw him anew
I threw caution to the wind
And garnered the immense strength
to invite him up
Our companion going his way
I found him by my door
The next thing I recall
Was him loving me
As no man ever had
Taking me to a peak
That my spirit was not willing to reach
Torturing me, teasing me
Withdrawing me from the pleasure
I so desperately needed
Perhaps he was giving me a taste
Of what living without him
Would be like
A feeling that I know and detest now
He drew my tears
I could not hear my voice
All I heard was him
Calling me beautiful.
I didn't want to let him go
I held onto him
Feeling as if my breath
Depended on his very breath
I wept because he
Had weakened me
Weakened my defenses.
Taken my very essence
My heart, my soul
I wanted him desperately
He kissed me in the morning
And in that moment
I trusted him and realized something
That he too did not want to let me go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem