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Could you just read me this poem before bed?
I miss you.
I want to cuddle against your face.
Like, face to face.
you know how cheeks do that thing,
where they kind of disfigure, like?
that’s what I want to do. smash cheeks.
and then you kiss my neck.
and my shoulders. and my clavicle
and just keep moving your way down,
one rib at a time.
and by the time you reach my hip bone,
i’d be completely melting
so
there’d be
no more bones to kiss

you would love me all over.

and before we’d fall asleep…
you would read me this poem.
and then i could just die.
seriously, happy. happy. fulfilled.

Don’t Go Far Off, Pablo Neruda

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —
because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don’t leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you’ll have gone so far
I’ll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying??”