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's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Sonnet XI by Pablo Neruda )
Did you read them?
- Title Is A Title, Tyrone Gayle
- Love Them With Time, John Masaitis
- Vice Versa, Sana Olivia Hernandez
- Trippin, John Masaitis
- LAst goodbye, Barbara Dixion
- Letterescence, Jole Hans
- All Babble Yet No Travel, Tyrone Gayle
- In that unlikelihood, Mark Heathcote
- Blue ink, Donnie Wolff
- Tossing Memories, RoseAnn V. Shawiak