Reading Neruda To My Lover

We stood in an old book store
That telescoped from room to room,
And in a corner, I found a book.
Listen, I said -

'I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.'

She took my arm and squeezed.
I caught my breath and gazed
Into those fiery pools, copper and gold,
That left me stunned -

'I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.'

A gasp from one of us,
I could not tell you who.
She leaned into me.
I stole a kiss -

'Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

'In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.'

We became entangled in the words
And in each others' arms.
I felt her pulse beneath my lips.

We emerged from between the shelves
'We'll buy this, ' I said.
I closed the book -

by Robert J Meyer

Other poems of MEYER (69)

Comments (1)

Yes! A Ten! Sincerely, Connie Webb