Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines by Pablo Neruda- a horrible spin off

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,’The floor is too wet for me to sleep on,
And these are the tiles I have slipped on.”

The window revolves around an unknown silhouette,
Is it a man or is it a cat.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
He loved me,and sometimes I loved him too.

Through nights like this one I held him in my arms
He kissed me again and again behind places where no one prys.

I loved him sometimes, and he loved me too.
How could one not have loved his incredible nexus of man and mind.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I have him. To feel that I will lose him.

To hear the quiet nights, quieter without him.
And the dark falls like bodies from bridges and tall buildings.

What does it matter that I could not keep him.
The night fell and shattered and he will not be with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing.
In the distance.
Distance that is measured by planes and heart burns.

I will look around for his face in every room.
My heart looks for him, and he is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees,
whitening the brows of my mother and my father’s hair
We, by that time, are no longer the same.

I will no longer love him, that’s certain, but how I loved him.
My voice tried to find the heat of his touch and frequency of his talking voice,

Another’s. He will be another’s. Like my kisses before.
His solar plexus, His incredible mind. His inifinite eyes.

Though this be the last heartburn that ends my suffering,
and these the last verses that I write for him.


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