Tonight is a night for Neruda on the mountain…
his words
spill from my mouth as if separate from my voice,
hanging in the thick fog like
their own sort of cloud...
waiting...
waiting for when they will rain on the earth and be joined
together again.
Will we, when the weight of our worlds begin to rain, be joined
together also?
I felt you once, the boldness of your hands nearer to my life
than my own skin.
Two hearts an afternoon brought together,
a night torn apart,..
all before we
could ever begin.
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