i do not love you

[sonnet XVII, Paulo Nerudo] 

I do not love you as you were salt-rose, or topaz

or the arrows of carnations that fire shoots off

I love you as certain dark things to be loved

in secret between the shadows and the soul

i love you as the plants that never blooms

but carries in itself the light of hidden flower

thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance

risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body

i love you without knowing how, or when or from where

i love you straightforwardly, without complexity or pride

so i love you because i know no other way

than this: where i does not exist nor you

so close that your hand in my chest in my hand

so close that your eyes close as i fall asleep

[ missing my man]