I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow andbxhdhdhdbxbxb
u without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you directly without problemsr prideou were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fhxhchdbcbxbx
you as the plant that doesn’t bloomut carries the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself, and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose from the earth lives dimly in my bodywithin itself, and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose from the earth lives dimly in my bodndndhdnx
ou without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you directly without problems or pride:or pridendbdbd
e you like this because I don’t know any other way to love, except in this form in which I am not nor are you, so close that your hand upon my chest is mine, so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
ONE HUNDRED LOVE SONNETS: XVII
BY: Pablo Neruda