Leaning Into The Afternoons
Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad s
towards your oic eyes.
There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames,
its arms turning like a drowning mans.
I send out red signals across your absent eyes
that smell like the sea or the beach by a lighthouse.
You keep only darkness, my distant female,
from yard sometimes the coast of dread emerges.
Leaning into the afternoons I fling my sad s
to that sea that is thrashed by your oic eyes.
The birds of night peck at the first stars
that flash like my soul when I love you.
The night gallops on its shadowy mare
shedding blue tassels over the land.
Pablo Neruda