I have a map
covered
with great big plans,
and half of them
probably won't
ever
get a pin
through their center.
There's so much
that hurts
in this world,
like the sound
of your tires
leaving,
but sometimes
it's a beautiful,
stunning
hurt
like the
bright fire
of your eyes
locked on mine.
Sometimes
I love you so much
that it all doesn't matter,
nothing but the wish
to be everywhere
with you.
If you asked me
what I'm afraid of,
it's that.
If you asked me
my favorite thing
about the world,
it's that.
poem - September 2012
have you read very much pablo neruda?
ReplyDeleteI've read a little, and I always love his work. now that I look at this through that lens I can see his influence on this poem.
ReplyDeleteAwesome yeah I just meant this reminded me of him, not that it sounded exactly like him or that it was obviously influenced by him, or anything of that sort. He is def one of my favorites.
ReplyDelete